


𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔦𝔩𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔯

by Download077



Series: Second chances [2]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, Drug Use, Egg boi abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Finding meaning in Hell, Fluff, Knotting, Overcoming failure, Past life trauma, Porn With Plot, Press F for the Egg bois, Reader belongs in Hell, Sir Pentious is so smart he's stupid, Slow Burn, Snake Cuddles, Territory Wars, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22166164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Download077/pseuds/Download077
Summary: What’s an average day like in Hell?For some, it’s just about getting so high that they’d swear they’re in heaven. Alternately, there are those that like it here and spend their time doing what they do best. What's that, you ask? Sinning, of course!Moving right along, others try their hands at business to fill the monotony. Murder. Prostitution. Looting corpses. You know, the usual shit.And so it goes that the average day in Hell differs from demon to demon. However, you all share one common theme...You’re just tryin’ to make it through the damn day.
Relationships: Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s), Sir Pentious/Reader (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: Second chances [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595515
Comments: 58
Kudos: 181





	1. Devil's Luck

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

Devil's Luck 

* * *

Katy Killjoy’s professional media anchor voice broadcasting to the tune of _This just in! We’re receiving breaking news on the Parkway Turf Wa̸r̴---B̶z̵z̷t̷!̸_ is cut short by a lipstick cartridge jammed with shrapnel fired from a colt python. _Boom!_ The bullet detonates inside the building wide television screen. Sparks shower the sky while the news station screeches to the buzz of white noise.

Damn. You fuckin’ missed.

The mustache twirling cackle of Sir Pentious roars through Parkway Avenue. “You call that aiming?! Hahaha! Now _this_ is aiming!”

 _Btoom!_ Heady gunpowder steals the air as an RPG whistles down the street. Ducking into an alleyway, you throw your hands over your head as the missile spirals into the side of a corner store. Egg shells, yolk, and debris accompanied by plumes of smoke explode in bursts of shattered glass as the building crumbles.

“Hey! Sir Dumbass!” You poke your head out from the alleyway. “Looks like you missed!”

“Ooohhh!! Ugh!” Sir Pentious balls up his fists, hood flaring as his tail strikes the ground. “Ssstop calling me that!”

Fuck him. He’s just being a brat since he had to run like a bitch with his tail between his..err, well. You know. Sir Pentious is just sore like an asshole before payday because he failed at his latest gambit near Twilight Boulevard. 

Due to this, he’s now in the slums trying his hand at fucking over Parkway. Which is _your_ Turf. Well, it’s not really yours, buuut you live here. So fuck him!

Stuffing another few lipstick tubes with some gravel, glass, really whatever you can scrounge up, you load your gun. Colt python because it kicks hard, but shit always jams so you gotta pack that bastard in tight. With a grunt, you shove the lipsticks in the chamber and fire blindly. You figure some of the shrapnel should at least graze the pompous shithead.

_Boom! Boom! Boom!_

A wince tugs at your lips as your hand throbs from the recoil. “You dead yet?!”

“As if I could ever die!” Ugh. Without looking, you already know his head is tossed back as he laughs, “But you?! I will be sure to blow you to smithereens!”

The unmistakable _thunk_ accompanied by the mechanical shifting of a rocket launcher being loaded and cocked strikes your ears. What follows makes your stomach drop. _Beep!_

_Deet deet deet deet!_

“You’re fuckin’ mad!” You screech as you bolt down the alleyway.

“Ohh! But surely you must come to understand that only the best of us are! Ahaha!” Sir Pentious reveals himself at the mouth of the alleyway. Shadowed by the red dawn of Hell’s coming day, he makes ready, aims, and fires the homing missile. _Btoom!_

Shoving a trash can out of the way, you dart behind a dumpster and curl up into a ball. With your arms caged to your face and hands protecting your head, you prepare yourself for the worst. You’d pray buuuuut god doesn’t typically answer demons. Never believed in the asshole, anyways.

You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? Yeahhh. No it doesn’t. That’s not just horse shit, it’s a truck load of it. The rocket crashes against the dumpster and a flash of light so bright it bends the edges of your vision consumes your surroundings. 

Your ears ring as you’re thrown backwards.

There’s no pain as your back smacks the ground. Time just cuts to black.

* * *

  
Swirls of warm magenta, orange, and yellow with tints of black greet your eyes as they flutter open. Cold links of metal slide along your shredded shirt, brushing against your stomach as they clink while you groggily stir. Dammmn, this is either a bad trip on a hit of Starlight, or…

Your restraints tighten. The nexus of color before you takes shape and dredges up a groan from your throat. “L-Let me go, Pentious,” Blood dribbles from the corners of your lips. “You w-win.”

“That’s Sssir Pentious to you!” With a snap of his wrist the chains laced around you contract. Your lungs seize as you spit up a thick clot of blood onto his suit. “Ugh! How dare you sully my swanky ensemble!”

“Sorry bout t-that,” You groan. “Looks expensive.”

“Well it was!” Sir Pentious turns his face skyward, hood flaring as he finishes with a _hmph!_

A smirk teases at your lips. Heh. That pout was kinda cute. “Lemme guess. T-Toxic Tendencies on Nighstrider sq-square?”

Sir Pentious blinks a few times. His tongue flicks through his lips as he shifts his attention back to you. “Close. Try Bartholomew's cove on Drowning terra--! Hey! Wait jussst a second!” Sir Pentious hisses as he snaps forward. “Just what are you getting at?!”

A fog glazes your mind. Your head droops. “Nice suits all I’m s-sayin’.”

“...Really now?” Sir Pentious perks up with a puff of his chest.

Drool falls in ropes out of your mouth. “Y-Yeah. Heyyy, listen. I’ve uhhh, got a needle with a shot of Devil's luck in my p-pocket. Shoot me up and I can..c-can tell you more about y-your suit.”

Ugghh...Urk. Come on, P-Pentious. You’d rather feed his ego than drop dead.

“Hmmm,” Sir Pentious scratches his chin as he toys with the chains. “I do like hearing about me.”

“Look, I..I don’t got l-long..” Tunnel vision creeps in. A buzz curls in your ears as your posture wilts.

Huh. K-Kinda wonder..what..happens..when..you..d-die..in...Hell..

“Fine, fine! Have it your way!” The chains knit around your body fall to mist. Laying you across the belly of his coils, Sir Pentious snatches the needle of Devil’s luck from your pocket and stabs it into your arm.

A gasp tears through you. Air slices its way down your throat that feels like it’s lined with a thousand paper cuts. It fuckin _hurts_ as you wheeze. However, this shit kicks in fast. Your lungs inflate. Raspy breaths come in easier. All of Sir Pentious’ warm sherbet tones of yellow, pink, and orange bloom as your tunnel vision retreats. 

While the glaze on your mind recedes, your eyes meet his. “D-Damn. Thanks, Sir Dumbass.”

“Ohhh! I most certainly did not save you just for you to become an ingrate!”

A tired laugh tumbles out of you. The pain subsides. “Calm down. Learn to take some banter, wouldja?”

“No!” Sir Pentious jabs a thumb to his chest. “I will be giving the orders from here on out, missy! You will do as I sssay. Not the other way around.”

Such a feisty little shit. Leaning back, you throw a leg over his coils as you straddle him while digging around for a cigarette. “Alright. What was it you said? Fine. Have it your way.”

Sir Pentious ruffles up like a damn gaudy rooster as he pulls at the collar of his suit before folding his arms over his chest. You bite back a snicker as he gives you an expectant glare. “Well? Go on. You may now admire my snazzzy attire of choice.”

Swiping your thumb against your opposite wrist, you strike a lavender flame to life. After you light your cigarette and take a nice long drag, you muse, “Question first. The material, kinda looks like cashmere and some blend of wool? Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Sir Pentious’ fangs split his face wide open with a maniacal grin. His hood spreads as he rockets a finger up, “Incorr--!” A pause. His face falls flat. “Hmmm. How does someone like _you_ know about finer apparel?”

“Pffft, fuck off. Just cause I live near Parkway doesn’t mean I don’t know my shit,” You huff a cloud of smoke. “I used to fold the stuff all the time upstairs, alright?”

“Hah! Even when you were alive you were a sslave.”

“Yeah? And I bet you were a pair of trashy fuckin’ boots.”

Sir Pentious belts out a gasp. “I most certainly was not! How dare you! I will have you know that I was just as well dressed when I sslithered among the living.”

“Don’tcha mean walked?”

“Oh! You know what I mean!” 

Okay. Other than him handing you your ass earlier, the dude’s fuckin’ precious. Rolling your eyes, you give him a lengthy once over while you twist your cigarette around your mouth. “So. It’s like I said. It’s a nice suit. Looks good on you.”

You shrug a shoulder. “Pretty fond of how well matched you are. I’ve always been a sucker for that kinda stuff. Guess I’ll also toss in for free that I like how your hat matches your expressions, too.”

“Hmph,” Sir Pentious glances away. Pursing his lips, just below his eyes flush as he mumbles, “Thank you.”

Yep. Precious. “You’re welcome.”

“..Is there anything more?” Sir Pentious’ hood pops open. The many magenta eyes that dapple the velvety skin flutter with blinks. “Perhapss you find my natural appeal to be charming?”

Oh this poor bastard is starved for attention. The inflated ego he carries is nothing more than a balloon full of hot air. Damn, you’re a whore for that kinda shit. What? It’s cute. Softening your approach, you sigh, “Now that you mention it, sure. Yeah. Your hoods kinda got a sunset thing goin’ on. It’s real pretty.”

Sir Pentious fluffs up his hood as if he were a southern belle. The sweet expression that has taken his face screws up however as his eyes slant. “You are simply saying that to appease me.”

Ahh, he’s one of those. Glass hammer ego kinda guy. Makes sense. “Ehh. Yes and no,” You pause to breathe a twirl of smoke. “You know, just cause we’re demons doesn’t mean we gotta be bastards all the time.”

“I can be quite pleasant, just so you know!” Sir Pentious scoffs. Throwing his hands on his hips, he gestures with a flick of his tongue towards your ankle. “Ssteal a glance towards your holster. Go on, now. Do it!”

“The fuck you goin on about?” Half expecting an egg bomb, you quick take a peek at your holster. Your brows pinch together. 

Huh.

You tap a finger against his underbelly. “My gun. Why?”

“It wasn’t like I was just going to leave it lying on the ground for some ruffian to snatch!” Sir Pentious’ nostrils flare. “Besides! I am a gentleman, not a ssscoundrel.”

“Oh bullshit! You tried to kill me!”

His eyes narrow as he throws his hands up. “As you did I!”

“Dude! Given the circumstances? The fuck was I supposed to do?”

“...Hmph,” Sir Pentious’ arms fall to his side. “Fine! You’ve clearly made your point.”

Yeah, that’s what you thought. Mushing your cigarette against your sneaker, you flick the bud away before releasing a ring of smoke. “Guess I owe you a thanks, huh?”

“Well, yes, you certainly do. However, that is all fine and dandy now,” Yellow teeth carve his face open as he gestures towards your ankle with an open claw. “Give it here.”

“Fuck no,” You shake your head. “Not interested in taking a bullet from my own gun.”

“Sstupid girl! If I truly wished you dead?” Sir Pentious drapes his tail across your lap. “I could have squeezed your guts out of your gullet by now.”

..Damn.

You roll your tongue along your teeth as you reach for your colt python, slip it out of the holster, and fork it over to him. “Ugh, just be careful with the barrel, alright? It’s got a nasty habit of jamin’ up.”

Sir Pentious hums in affirmation as he brings your gun into his grasp. A smirk slants your lips as he taps a claw tip against the insignia engraved into the opalescent handle. “Thisss Regalia. How did you happen upon this handgun?”

Your lips peel back into a full grown shit eating grin as you snicker, “Lifted it off of a dead guard a few years ago. I’ll tell ya, the grounds skirting Myrefall palace have the best shit after a Turf war.”

“Didja know that Grand Duke Alderman is beefin’ up security?” You lean your elbows up on his tail as he pops open the chamber to your colt and gives it a spin. “Next time Killjoy announces that Myrefall is under siege you can bet your ass I’ll be first in line to scavenge.”

“Grand Duke Alderman is a podsnappery, tacky, fly rinked fool of a politician! Hahaha! He will require more than a few ssecurity wardens when I decide to rain Hell on his front porch.”

Sir Pentious clicks a talon against your gun once more. “You have exsscellent taste. Personally, I have always held an appreciation for the expertise applied to this model in particular.”

“Thanks,” As he hands you back your colt you shoot him a wink. “You could say I have a thing for pythons.”

Sir Pentious’ hood flaps open as he bares his fangs. “Cobra!”

Someone’s testy. Did you just strike a nerve? 

“Whatever,” You stuff your gun back into its holster. “Heh, you know what? You’re awfully cute when you’re all puffed up.”

If there were a shade darker than black it would be Sir Pentious’ face. “Do not patronize me, harlot! You know not of who you are dealing with! It will be me that rules Hell one day and you would do well to remember that!”

“Ewww,” Your nose wrinkles up. “Learn to take a compliment, Pentious. You don’t gotta get all fuckin’ self righteous and shit.”

“Ohh! Why, you! It’s Sir Pentious! _Sir_ Pentious!”

Nope. 

“Ugh,” You shove his tail out of your lap and hop off of his coil. “We’re so done here.”

Man, fuck Pentious. The snooty act was cute at first but it gets old realllly damn fast. Whatever. It’s only fun when you butter them up and they melt. This prick only gets pricklier. 

“Jusst where do you think you’re going, missy?!” Sir Pentious slithers up beside you. As you roll your eyes and continue on your way, he blocks your path with a slam of his tail. “Answer me!”

“Home! Where else do you think I’m goin?” You glare between him and his tail. “I’m a gentleman not a sscoundrel? Wasn’t that it? Huh? Huh?! Fuckin’ move, then!”

Sir Pentious’ hood droops. “Err, well, Y-Yes,” His eyes hit the floor. Nope. Don’t pity him. 

A sneer takes his face as he lifts his coil. “How am I to be secure in knowing that you simply won’t head home, restock, and then try your odds at the element of surprise? Do you actually take me for some kind of fool? Hm? Hmmm?”

“Seriously? Dude, I need another cigarette if I’m gonna deal with your ass any longer.”

You fish out a cigarette, light it, and plop it into your mouth as he throws his little hissy fit. “Deal with me?! Deal with _me_?! You should be honored to stand in my presence you sssimpleton!”

A growl sticks to your throat, rumbling low like a dormant volcano. Smoke pours from your nose as you release an exhale. This mother fucker is testing your patience. You think a good hard fuck session would set him straight, he’s wound tighter than a nuns cunt, but his attitude is killing your sexual appetite.

Succubus or not, even you have some goddamn limitations. 

Ash falls from the tip of your cigarette as you give it a few flicks. As the calming properties of the tobacco settle into your lungs, clove spices tingling your tongue, you breathe, “Looks like you’ve got three options, _Sir_ Pentious. Let me go home or kill me.”

Sir Pentious cocks a brow. “Are you daft? You said three! And I’ll have you know my options are unlimited for I am the one in charge here! Not you! Me!”

You drawl on your cigarette. “Alright. Go on, then. Do what you want.”

“I will!” Canvassed with a scowl, Sir Pentious poofs up his bow tie as he squares his shoulders. 

Your expression blanks.

...Any minute now. Little circles, triangles, squares, and all the neat little tricks of smoke you know how to blow leave your lips as he squirms.

“Fine! What was the third?!” 

Jackpot.

Smashing your cigarette against the brick wall to your left, you sigh, “You really wanna know?”

“Do not test me, you trollop! Of course I want to know! I would not have asssked if I hadn’t!”

Every single eye without fail that Sir Pentious has along his body widens as you drape yourself against his chest. His claws hover above your shoulders, twitching, magenta tips glinting as he stutters, “J-j-just wha-what do yo-you think you are doing?! This, This is hi-highly unorthodox! innappropri--!... _Mmm_.”

With a wet of your lips, you meld your mouth to his. There we go...Sir Pentious melts like wax as you stroke your hands down his neck, soft little moans slipping through his lips while you kiss him. Yeah, that’s right. Somewhere beneath all of that fiery flamboyance there’s a hopeless romantic. Someone who wants to be touched. Loved on. Call it a hunch, but you had a feeling all along. You might not be the strongest or the smartest in Hell, but intuition is one of your mightiest weapons down here in the afterlife.

Gingerly, his claws find rest on your shoulders, tail curling around your thighs as you move to ghosting your fingertips along the cusp of his jaw. Breathing through your nose as you deepen the embrace, your eyelids flutter as a gentle waft of musk tickles your nostrils. Mmm. Antique, like old clothes from a cedar wardrobe laced with teak oil. Smells like nostalgia. Incense. It’s nice.

Really nice.

A tender whimper of disappointment escapes him as you pull away from the kiss. Sir Pentious blinks a few times. The catch lights of his eyes shine like little sugary stars as you purr, “Do you want more?”

Without a sound, Sir Pentious feverishly nods his head.

Gliding a hand down to his chest, you yank a ball of his suit up into your fist as you bark, “Then stop bein’ a fuckin’ jerk!”

Sir Pentious recoils, fangs glistening as a snarl rips up from his throat while his claw tips sink into your shoulders. A chill of terror careens down your spine as his hood darts open like a monarch butterfly fanning its wings. Oh fuck, your intuition was wrong. Dead fuckin’ wrong. Just as his talons pierce through your shirt, snarl curling into a dark hiss, he stops. He just..stops. His nostrils flare as he holds you in his eyes.

Your pupils dilate. Something feral and confused colors his eyes a brighter shade of violet. Carefully, as if you were instead testing the boundaries of a rabid dog, you rest your hand on his shoulder. Subsequently, his tongue pokes between his lips and tests the air.

With a sigh, his face caves in on itself as his hood cinches in tight against his neck. Palpable silence thickens the air. You release the breath you’ve been holding as he looks away, mumbling, “I..I..My ssincerest apologies, mademoiselle.”

Holy fucking shit on a shingle. Somebody call the looney crew down at the Hazbin Hotel. 

“Um…,” Gently, you move to lay your palms against his chest. “..Thank you.”

“Ssscertainly,” Sir Pentious whispers, refusing to look at you as he keeps his eyes glued to the ground. Light years of decisions to be made labor across his face as his brows furrow. A weak smile tugs at your lips as he moves to hold you in his peripheral, “Perhaps your earlier ssentiments detain more merit than I originally perceived.”

Oh, so he _did_ actually like the we don’t always gotta be bastards line? Huh. Maybe you should trademark that shit. Anyways, you don’t wanna ruin this by shoving in any more catch phrases. He’s doing really good on his own. Instead, you smooth your hands along his lapels while he threads a claw through your hair. “By chance, would you care to join me on my zzzeppelin?”

Wow. You should have kissed him earlier.

“I’d...I’d really like that,” Your finger finds itself tapping the space between his slit nostrils as you give him the respect he now deserves. “Sir Pentious.”

Sir Pentious tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You may call me Pentious. Just Pentiousss.”

* * *

The idle hum of Pentious’ airship drifting through Hell’s starless night yawns through his bedroom. Victorian oil lamps with frosted glass shades flicker with warm amber fire. Shadows cavort along the striped wallpaper slotted with violet eyes. Chills rush along your arms, breasts, and stomach in waves as you shudder, arching your back against the bed as Pentious breathes over the shell of your ear, 

“You feel how music sssounds.”

Coil after coil corkscrew your body, massaging as he kneads your ankles, calf muscles, and thighs. Warmth ripples down your spine, pooling in your stomach as his pheromones flood your senses. You’ve learned that the smell, that lovely nostalgic musk from earlier, is the scent he secretes when wanting to attract a mate. It makes your head swim, like you’re high, so incredibly high and the only thing keeping you from bleeding out of time are his coils.

He quiets the breathy sigh trembling out of you with his mouth as he fuses his lips to yours. Mmmm. While your hands strum up and down his underbelly, fingers combing his velvety scales, his claw tips map out your curves. Biting back a moan, you draw his bottom lip between yours and suck. He whimpers adoringly. Well, damn. It’s..kinda hard to believe this is the same haughty asshole from earlier.

Your breast fits his palm like a dream as he gives you a needy squeeze. Little jolts of pleasure zing beads of heat to between your thighs. Ah! Rolling his wrist, he works the stiff peak of your breast around his palm. All the while his claw tips tease along the plush swell of your bosom. Earlier, he told you he was an inventor. Explained how he had manufactured his ship from the ground up, forged his own ammunition, created the blueprints for his assembly of weapons. Naturally, he was bound to be good with his hands. 

And he is.

While one hand caresses your breast, the other massages feather light circles along your plush hips. Soft. Tender. Although you prefer to be taken fast and rough, fucked stupid and sore, being treated like a china doll for once is...nice. Really nice. Sex in Hell is everywhere. Yet passion..passion like this is what’s rare.

Changing trajectory, his talons rake along the supple expanse of your belly while he sinks deeper. Ohhhh _fuck._ Embers of delight tickle your stomach. His mouth breaks away from yours with a hiss as he samples the slick drooling from your slit with the tip of his claw. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Yeah, you know. You’re so wet, so excited, ready for whenever he wants to take you.

A shiver of desire sweeps over you. Curling his fingers, he spreads you with his knuckles. Pentious shudders as reveals all of your glistening pinks and dewy peachy creams. Seething as he dips his knuckles between your lips, Pentious flicks his tongue along the hollow of your throat, coils clenching around your legs as you mindlessly buck your hips. With a sense of care, he fits the hood of your clit between his fingers. It’s all so slippery while he works you over, and the pleasure is fucking erratic, darting through your body like a caged bolt of lightning.

Your heart leaps as he fits your throat into his mouth. The pressure from his fangs pricking your neck is all the more noticeable as your pulse point thuds against them. A delicious shudder takes it’s time down your spine while his fingers flick, knead, and twirl in all the right places. Everything is so fucking tight. From his coils increasing their constriction, the pressure sizzling at the base of your spine, to your hands that have left his body to furiously ball up his sheets as you writhe in the throes of pleasure.

Gooseflesh coats your skin as he rumbles with a low hiss, tongue lapping along your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut, jaw slacked while you focus on the pleasure. Fuck! You’re so fucking close! The friction is all but lost from the amount of clear silk that’s pouring from you, glazing your lips and his fingers. Nevertheless, he works you over, it feels so fucking good, and if he’d just move a little to the left…!

Fireworks of delight shoot up your spine and detonate off the back of your head in clusters. Lurching forward, your hands fly to his back as your climax hits you like a train. You grit your teeth, seething, convulsing, shoving your head back into the sheets as the hot tremors of pleasure take you. Pentious’ grip on you tightens considerably, coils kneading around your legs in a bind as you soak his hand in your release.

Your mind fizzles in afterglow like carbonation as your body stills. The thick sheen of sweat that’s glossed your skin has a mild pink tint from Pentious’ flux of pheromones seeping glands along his coils. Cedar musk infused with teak oil. Damn, it smells so fuckin’ good. The smog it puts in your head is like nirvana. Pentious should bottle this up and sell it as a cologne.

You’re still seeing stars as Pentious breathes little puffs of air through his nostrils against your neck. While he peppers his lips along the puncture wounds that now marble your throat, you stroke your hands along his head. Mmm, his scales are so smooth. So soft. He reminds you of the sleek weave of a stingrays wing as you pull your fingers along his hood.

“You ssseemed to enjoy yourself,” Pentious purrs while drawing your lips to the side. His coils twitch as he swims a finger through your slit, tracing a claw tip along the dip of your entrance still pooled and drooling.

Mmm. That all too familiar warmth in your gut tingles at your loins. You glide a hand down to his, spreading yourself wider for him as you breathe, “I’m not done enjoying myself.”

Fuck, you just wanna get to the good part. _Now._ The throbbing between your thighs feels like a damn heart beat. You want him so fuckin’ bad, you don’t care how or what position, so long as he’s buried to the hilt and shivering.

He’s all yellow teeth as his fangs carve a grin into his face. Pentious’ hood darts open like a neon kite as he exclaims, “Hahaha! Neither am I, of course. Why, you should know that I could play you like an instrument all night long!”

Your cheeks grow hotter than Satan’s fireplace. Holy shit, Pentious. Goddamned excitable bastard. He’s so lucky that’s endearing rather than off putting.

There’s laughter sticking to your ribs as you curl a hand along the nape of his neck, pulling him to your face as you giggle, “Shut up and come here.”

“Jusst why are you laughin-?!.. _Mmm_.” Your teeth clack against his as you cement your lips together. 

Sweet little moans catch in his throat as you stroke his cheek. Twisting and turning, his coils corkscrew your legs as he adjusts to laying the swell of his erection, still sheathed by his underbelly, between the seam of your thighs. With the aid of his free hand he brings himself out, groaning into your mouth as he strokes his cock to dipping between your lips. 

A hiss tickles your gums as he pokes at your entrance. Fuck, _finally._ As he begins to fit himself into you, popping his head inside, he curiously pulls away. Aww! You whine as he breaks the embrace, pressing a few kisses to your lips before throwing his gaze away from you. “...Ugh, there iss something you should know.”

“Pentious,” You growl. “Unless you have acid for spunk I don’t care.”

“That is absurd!” He looks up in thought for a moment. “Delightfully cruel, yet absurd nevertheless!”

Pentious’ shoulders deflate. Sliding his hand down his cock, he curls his fingers around his bulbous sheath as he sighs, “Realize that if you mate with me, we will be locked together until break of day. Possssibly later.”

“Huh?” Comprehension dawns on your face. “Oh! You’re a knotter?”

“Crass! Do not ssspeak of me as if I am some indecent deviant.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’ve just never been with one before.”

Pentious’ tongue flicks out as he tastes the air. His lips tease with the hint of a smile. “Really now?”

You choose not to tell him how many people you’ve been with. Don’t wanna freak him out. However, through all of your sexual proclivities in Hell? You’ve yet to experience anything like what he has to offer. Tingles shower your skin in little pleasurable ripples. This should be fun. Plus? He’s..he’s not so bad. You wouldn’t mind spending another day with him.

You slide a hand down his underbelly. “Yeah, really."

Pentious’ face contorts as you guide him back towards your tight, wet heat. You smirk. “Not yet, at least.”

With two fingers flanking the petite stretch of your entrance, you spread yourself as he works the head of his cock into you. Mph, fuuuck. You always love this part of sex. Being spread by the broad tip of his cock tingles your stomach and makes you impossibly wetter.

“You are ssso, nghh, tight.”

Mmm. Satisfaction slams a sledgehammer of a shudder to the base of your spine. He’s _definitely_ well proportionate. Your jaw tenses as he works you open, mashing his forehead against yours as his breathing husks. Everything’s the dark sunset of his hood as it drapes your cheeks. His lips take yours into a sloppy kiss as he crushes his groin to yours.

His claws seize your waist as he shudders, throbbing deep inside you, hips stuttering as he sits flush with you. W-Wow, you can feel every twitch of him as if it were your own. Fuck, he feels so good to clench around. You’re spread so wide, it’s so nice how he sparks that sense of fullness within you, however it’s nearing painful as he tugs himself in and out despite the slick that coats him. It’s just difficult to take him with his coils keeping your legs bound together. Not impossible, just difficult. This could be so much more enjoyable if he’d just...

You grunt as you frame your lips around his name, mumbling into his mouth, “Pentious,”

“Mmm,”

You push your palm against a coil. “M-Move,”

“MmMm,” He shakes his head, slanting his mouth over yours as he deepens the kiss.

Ugh. Stubborn ass. You hate having to resort to this. “C’mon, mph, please?”

Reluctantly, the coil wrapped around your thighs unfurls. Yeah, that’s what you thought. Wiggling your hips, you relax your posture as you’re able to widen your legs a bit. Pentious’ jaw slacks with an accompanied moan as he suddenly glides into you from tip to root with little resistance.

Your eyelids flutter. Fuck yes, it’s just as nice for him as it is you. With every stroke he’s hitting that sweet spot so deep inside of you that your mind’s beginning to cloud. Every punch of his cock tip slamming into you feels like he’s about to knock your fuckin’ soul out of your body. You cage your arms around him, bruising your breasts to his chest. Your hearts take turns thudding against each other. Keeping you as close as possible, he locks his arms in an x around the small of your back, talons curling around your waist.

His breathing comes labored and rugged as he works into you faster, harder, widening your eyes as the lower half of his cock begins to swell. He moans in knowing as your fingers dig into his back. Yeah, _fuck._ That’s his knot beginning to stretch you. You grit your teeth as his coils lift your legs while he places one firm hand on the bed, hitching your hips higher, tilting the angle of his penetration so he can reach further into your depths.

Tears prick at your eyes as he continues to grow inside you, stretching you wider and wider to the point that your fingernails are now digging welts into him. This is fuckin’ _wild_. Your cheeks are on fire as tears sear down them. D-Damn! It feels like he’s about to split you in half. You rip away from his mouth to latch onto his neck to muffle a scream. Meanwhile, Pentious lets out an unashamed moan as he swells to full size, knot tugging at your hole as his thrusting grows sloppy and desperate.

You toss your head back as the heat from the pain of accommodating him confuses your body with pleasure. It’s like dry ice as you teeter on the crease of the masochism. Regardless, you can’t stop the shock of it all from resonating down your spine. It’s deliciously overstimulating, the satisfaction you get from taking him like this is pure pride, and it’s sending your teeth into his neck, _hard_ , all while he seethes as he begins to hit his peak. 

Adding a coil back to your legs, Pentious’ grip turns like that of a vice while he fucks his claim into you without restraint. The gasp you belt in surprise is quickly silenced as Pentious mashes his mouth to yours. Mph! Your fingernails bite into his back. Shoving his hips to the hot, wet mess you’ve made together, he keens, driving his knot as deep as possible before popping with release. _F-Fuck!_ With a swivel of your hips, you clench around him as shot after shot of his hot climax spurts into you.

Pentious collapses, coils easing their grip as he comes undone around you like a ribbon. You tuck your head into the curve of his shoulder while the meat in your skull pounds like a damn war drum. You close your eyes. A weak groan tumbles from your lips as your arms drop from his back and hit the sheets. You’re fuckin’ spent.

Time feels like droplets of water leaking from a faucet as your body calms with his. The rotary buzz of the airship’s engines humming as it banks compliments his breathing, your breathing, and the crackling of his oil lanterns.

The dull pangs of his heart thudding against your chest is putting a droop to your eyelids. Groggily, you peel your forehead off of him, swiping away hair that’s sticking to the mixture of pheromones and sweat you’ve made with him. You fill your lungs. Fuck. That antique musk he secretes is so good.

You glance down to the coils lazily kneading your legs. He’s shimmering with how the lanterns cast their fire across his scales. Pretty. Like a dark ocean reflecting a mercury sunset…

You yawn before grumbling, “Pentious.”

“MmMm,” Pentious gives a lethargic shake of his head as you wiggle your legs. His coils tighten.

“Come _on_.”

“Mph. But you’re ssso warm,” Pentious whines. “Ugh! Do you know how long it has been sssince I have properly been able to regulate my body temperature?!”

You narrow your eyes.

“..One leg. Only one! The other isss mine.”

* * *

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* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> This was meant to be at maximum 1,500 words. _Oops._ Huge shout out and thank you to [Atiz57](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atiz57/pseuds/Atiz57) for requesting that I write something with Sir Pentious. This would not exist without them. 
> 
> Disclaimer - I do not normally do requests. However, if something sparks creativity within me I won't let that inspiration go to waste. I am always open to hear suggestions and you are more than welcome to make requests, I love comments and hearing about other people's ideas, however I won't always take them into consideration when it comes to my writing of them. 
> 
> This work is solely headcanon based off of how I perceive the setting and Sir Pentious as a character. 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	2. High Voltage

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

High Voltage

* * *

His exact words were break of day. Possibly later.

Pentious’ airship sits perched atop one of Hell’s many jagged cliff sides overlooking the Ocean of Souls. Blankets of mist hang in the air. Dark water splashes against columns of twisted rock and bone protruding from the shore below. 

Egg boi minions grumble as they refuel the airship. A few lose their footing and tumble over the cliff side due to their lack of visibility. Midnight in Hell is black in it’s purest form, after all.

His exact words were break of day. Possibly later.

...It’s midnight. The next day.

With one long swipe of his tongue Pentious travels up from your navel, between your breasts, along your throat, until he melds his lips to yours. He moans low with a rumble from his chest as his claws take purchase on your swaying hips. You keep him flush as you swivel, grind, and languidly rock with him. It’s easier this way. Hurts less. You’re fuckin’ sore like a bruise around the span of your entrance.

Damn it all if it isn’t a gratifying pain, though.

Pentious’ lips fold over yours with a heightened sense of urgency. Mmm, he’s close. Your eyelids flutter. The snug hold you have on his knot lets you feel him throb as the excitement of his finish forces his cock to shudder and twitch as he closes in. Anchoring your arms around his neck, you moan sweetly into his mouth, lifting your hips to give him the permission he’s probably dying for.

After learning he could have multiple orgasms while locked with you, you couldn’t help yourself. The thought of him keeping you plugged while pumping you full of more of his release burned your belly with greed. You wanted him. He wanted you. It was that easy. 

However, after his fourth climax and finding trickles of red laced with the sweat and pheromones around your thighs? You both found it wise to slow this carnal carnival of desire down to a crawl rather than a sprint for the finish.

Warm air tickles your upper lip as Pentious’ nostrils flare. Sliding his claws down to your ass, he palms your cheeks, pulling on the supple flesh as he picks up to thrusting. You squeeze your eyes shut as his knot begins to tug at your entrance. It’s growing familiar by now, but nevertheless, it drives your knees to dig into his coil.

The kiss turns sloppy and careless as he begins to tremble at the crest of his rapidly approaching completion. Roaming your hands up to the back of his head, you slant your mouth over his, dipping your tongue into his mouth as his body stills.

The claws on your ass flex, fingers twitching as his climax floods into you. Pentious’ lips slide off of yours as he makes little strangled noises on the come down of his release. Following his example, you allow your posture to wilt as he crumbles like sand beneath you.

Arching your back as you frame your hips over his, you angle yourself as comfortably as you can while you lay across his underbelly. A wince tugs at your lips as the swell of his knot pulls _hard_ at your entrance. Fuck, the pressure burns.

Reflexively, you sit up as his tail slithers around your stomach. He mumbles incoherently and gives your waist a tug to the left. Oh thank _fuck_. Easing to the side, you let him do the leg work as he turns your world topsy-turvy, rolling you onto your back while he keeps his groin cemented to yours.

Serpent bodies are fuckin’ cool.

Pentious twists his coils around your legs as he lays the upper half of his body next to yours. He gives you a few lazy blinks, eyes clouded over and glossy before stretching his mouth wide in a yawn.

Wow. That’s a lot of teeth.

You smear a finger down his underbelly that’s rife with beads of pink moisture. Mmm. Smells so nice. Like the inside of an antique grandfather clock. Damn, you’re half tempted to be a total fuckin’ weirdo and get one of your empty lipstick tubes out and yeah maybe that’s kinda weird. Nevermind. Anyways, as you play connect the dots, zig zagging between his yellow and black stripes, you contemplate the question he’s presenting you with.

“I’m curiousss. Entertain me, how did you die?”

Easily, it’s the number one asked question in Hell among demons. Come to think of it, they should make a damn television series based off of that question. It’d be entertaining as Hell. 

With a snicker, you flick a pink drop of dew at his face. Immediately, he barks out a _Stop that!_ Haha. Anyways. You dance your eyebrows. “Let’s just say I had a front row seat on death row.”

A grin sweeps over Pentious’ face. “Hahaha! Oh, yess. This sounds fun. Indulge me! Just what did you do to earn yoursself that?”

You hold up a hand and wiggle four fingers. “Knocked out a family like a bowling ball with my car. But what really got me on the hot seat? One of the brats I sent flyin’ outta the windshield miiight have happened to be the state governor's daughter. And I was drunk. Oops. Also? Got in a lot of fights in prison. A lot. So, actually,” You purse your lips as you reveal your thumb. “Boom. Read em’ and weep.”

“Ooooh! _Nice_.” The tip of Pentious’ tail thumps against your leg. His smile is so wide he looks like he’s been suckin’ on a lemon wedge. “Very nice, indeed! Hahaha, that iss quite an accomplishment.”

You mirror his expression, only your nose scrunches up as you giggle, “Thanks. I try.”

“What about you?” You allow a smirk to paint your face. “Come on. I know your evil ass sent a few to their early grave before you got here.”

“A few? A _few_?! Bold of you to assume so little of me! Come now, don’t you know who I am?!” Pentious cackles as he strikes an open palm against his chest. 

“Hahaha! Listen up, missy. During my time upstairss things were different. Very different. Technology was frustratingly primitive. Due to this, I got away with every one of my delightfully cruel actss! Every! Single! One! Haha! Ohh, tsk tsk, those poor foolss never did stand a chance with me on the prowl.”

You jab a finger into his chest. “Aww, come on. After all that monologuing? Spit it out! How many?”

Pentious’ thin tongue rolls over his teeth. “I losst track of my count.”

Smug ass. He really had you going that you both were maybe on equal ground. Pfft. Whatever. You give a quick glance around his room. The oil lanterns are all but pinpricks of light as they’ve ran through their fuel. There’s just enough of a glow to make out that the shadows around his room are furniture and not something else.

Claw footed chaise lounge? Check. Tacky wallpaper that matches--okay that’s just him never mind. Sweeping velvet curtains across the popped out bay windows of the airship? Check. 

Dark wood paneling for crown molding? Bingo.

You bring your attention back to him. “Early twentieth century?”

“Close. Late nineteenth. And you?” Pentious’ eyes trace along your frame. “Hmmm. Let’s see. If I were to make an educated guess? Hmmm. Hm. HmMmMmMmm. Perhaps a century sseperated us? Give or take?”

“Mhm! Got my brains fried in ninety six,” Time for a subject change. It’s his turn to spill the beans. “Alright. Fork it over. How did you die?”

“Ugh. Fine! Eye for an eye, I ssuppose,” Pentious groans. “Listen up! My death requires a bit of foreground. For this purpose, do you by chance know who Nikola Tessla was?”

“The inventor guy? Tesla coil?”

Pentious throws his stare away from you as he sneers. “Of _course_ you would know who that tawdry basstard was.”

Wait, did he know Tesla? Holy shit! “Did you know him?”

“No,” Pentious holds you from the side of his eye. “We simply shared commonalities in research from what I understand. However, Tesssla was awarded opportunities that I was never afforded due to his partnerships forged on the backs of the masses in the Austrian empire.”

Pentious stabs his thumb into his chest as he snarls. “I did all of my own research! Everything! Where he was zealoussly pampered and praised I was self made. What is it that you kids say? A boss?! Yess! I was a goddamn bosss!”

Your lips twitch as you bite back a laugh. Fuck yeah, Pentious. Tell it like it is. 

“Understand that I was working on developing a device that would produce sstatic electricity at a low current in retrograde. While not necessarily impressive during your era, this was a monumental feat of engineering among mine. Your generation would come to know this as the Van de Graaff generator.”

Pentious growls through his teeth as he grits them. “It was one of the firsst true steps of many towards particle acceleration. Among other things! Ugh! I was so close! Did you know that Tesssla patented his coil nonsense only three years after my death?! Three! Ugh! Are you following any of this?!”

You give him a cringey smile and a nod of your head. Okay. Not gonna lie. You don’t know half of what the fuck he just said. “Um..what happened, then?”

Pentious heaves a sigh. “...Unfortunately, my untimely demise came at the hand of a slipped latex belt. Instead of the charge flowing through and to the charge plate, I became the conduit of electrosstatic influence. If only I had followed the Kelvin water Doppler principle. Then it would have been my name celebrated and not Tesssla’s! Mine!”

Wait a second. If all of his mumbo jumbo means what you think it means..

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth. “...So you uh, died by electrical discharge?”

Laughter tickles your belly. Nope. Swallow it like a load. Be a champ.

“Yes!” Pentious’ pupils flare. “Were you not listening to a word of what I said?!”

...Don’t do it. Dooon’t you do it.

Fuck it!

You tilt your head back and cry out with laughter. The irony! Oh the fuckin’ _irony_!

Confusion swallows Pentious’ face as he shakes his head. “Are you inssane?! What is so goddamn funny?! Sstop it!”

“I wass far ahead of my time with the experiments I conducted! A geniuss!” Pentious barks. “How dare you laugh at me! My failure inspired generations of technological advancements--”

“Pentious!” You laugh. “You don’t understand!”

“Jusst what don’t I understand?!”

You shoot a hand to your face. Squealing like a pig caught under a gate, you shriek, “The electric chair you oaf!”

“Elaborate!” Pentious’ bares his fangs. “I sstill lack the fundamental reasoning as to why you are laug--.....”

Pentious’ brows tighten. A pregnant pause consumes the bedroom.

You peek at him through your fingers. Come on, Pentious. It’s not that hard. 

Giggles flutter in your chest as you mash your lips together. Simultaneously, Pentious’ tongue flicks out as he tests the air.

Anyyyy minute now.

As if struck by the lightning of realization, Pentious’ hood pops open as he cackles, “Ahahaha! I ssee! I see! Oh, that irony is posssitively delightful. Tell me! I must know. Do you perhaps recall the wattage?”

A breathy _whew!_ shoots through your lips as you look up in thought. “Gimme a sec, it’s been awhile. Uhh…”

What was the wattage, again? Fuck, you remember doing a shit load of research on it in the prison library before execution. You thought it would ease your fear if you knew how you were gonna die.

Crock of shit that was. You think you shook more heading to the chair than you actually did while on the damn thing.

With a wince, you shrug your shoulders. You don’t remember. That was what, eighty years ago?

Pentious taps a claw tip against one of his fangs. “Typically, the human heart ceasesss to maintain function at approximately eighteen hundred voltss--”

Aha!

“Twenty two hundred!” You exclaim. “Yeah! It was a fuck ton.”

Pentious’ teeth split his face open as he laughs, “Pathetic! That’s nothing! I’ll have you know that I sent eighty thousssand glorious volts through my circulatory system and was here in Hell before my ssmoking corpse hit the floor.”

You snort on a laugh. Holy shit, you can just see it now. Pentious, back upstairs conducting his research, cackling as he flips some switch and then shocks himself to death. Subsequently, the maniacal bastard finds himself in Hell, looks himself over, and then cackles again.

Fuck, that’s funny. Good shit.

You wiggle a leg free and drape it over him, hooking your ankle in the slight dip of his waist. While his coils take over twisting around your free leg, you return the favor of another famous question, “So. Why Sir Pentious?”

Next to how did you die? All demons, one way or another, ask each other about their chosen name in Hell. Upstairs, you don’t get to choose your name. It’s given with little meaning to who you are, just what others want you to fuckin’ be. But here in Hell? It’s as they say.

You get to pick your poison.

All of Pentious’ eyes blink simultaneously before his face twists up with a scoff. “Pleasse tell me you are actually not _that_ dense.”

Que the television game show theme music.

“Uhhh...is it a play on pretentious?”

Pentious rubs a palm into his forehead. “Ugh. I’ve locked myself with an imbesscile..”

“Yep. Pretentious.”

“Sssserpent,” Pentious groans as he rolls his eyes. 

Serpent? Serpent. Sir-pent--...Oh! Ohhh. Well. You feel sheepish.

“And what about you, missy?” Pentious’ coils tighten their kneading of your leg. “You have yet to reveal to me your alias! Don’t think that I haven’t notissced. Nothing slips by me! Nothing!”

“It’s nunya.”

“Ludicrous! The Hell kind of nom de plume is Nunya?!”

He’s making this too easy. Your face screws up. “Nunya business.”

It takes him a minute. “Ugh! You! Do not toy with me, yo-you-?! You! You see?! If I had your ssecond name, this would be so much easier!”

“Nah.”

“Cough it up!”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know! That’s why!”

Ugh. This _always_ happens. Usually, you can just toss a mother fucker your middle finger and leave. However...you’re kinda stuck right now.

You side eye him with a dirty look. Back off, Pentious. 

Pentious’ tongue slips through his lips as he tastes the air. “Sssurely it’s not that bad, hm? No doubt that you’ve heard of that half-wit Ssstolas. Now _that_ is a tacky name.”

“That’s not the fuckin’ point. Can you just drop it? Seriously,” You roll your eyes. Pentious softens his. Damn.

..Why does he have to look at you like that?

Fuck it. “Ugh! Hand me my smokes, wouldja!?”

Pentious throws an arm over the bed, claw tips digging around the floor in search of your pants. He starts to grumble as he fishes about for your carton of smokes. “You have no classs. This material is utterly chintzy! Jusst touching it is--Ugh! Tell me! Where are these confounded things?!”

You roll your eyes. “Back left pocket.”

“So many goddamn pocketsss,” Pentious lifts the carton from your pants with a pinch of his talons. As he hands you the carton he scoffs, “You would find yourself enjoying these more if you would ssmoke their contents from a pipe.”

“Whatever,” You tug a cigarette out. With a snap of your fingers you bring a lilac flame to life, swipe the cigarette through it, and then promptly shove it into your mouth. You suck on that coffin nail like a whore working a horse over at a donkey show. 

“Well?! Go on!”

You close your eyes. Come on, tobacco. Work your magic.

There we go.

“Look at little miss Dahlia,” Curls of smoke leave your nostrils. “That’s what they’d say.”

So many memories. Your first DUI. Vehicular manslaughter. Prison riots. That blaring alarm. Hours, sometimes days of staring at a concrete wall and steel toilet. Scratchy orange jumpsuits and cold showers. The definitive strike of Judge Mason’s gavel as he announces your sentencing. The knife that gave you your prison name and the smile behind it.

Heh. You chuckle, sighing a cloud of smoke. Sometimes? You gotta wonder if upstairs was Hell and where you are now is just irony.

Nevertheless, you flip the switch off on the trip down memory lane of someone who died a long time ago. It’s easier to look at yourself, rather, your old self as...someone you lost. They’re gone. They died. All that’s left are echoes of who they were.

You open your eyes. “Black Dahlia. Chose the name off of that famous murder they never solved back around the mid twentieth century. Don’t look into it. I just liked the name.”

Pentious tongue pokes through his lips as he tastes the air. He turns his attention towards the sheets. “...Iss that so.” 

“Yep. Pretty much.”

“Dahlia,” He doesn’t look at you as he glides a claw down to the thigh you have draped over him. “Move. Thiss is uncomfortable and digging into me.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Pentious keeps his groin kissed to yours with an arch of his back while you adjust the placement of your leg. Thoughtful. His knot is fuckin’ murder and you’d rather not have it pulling at you right now. Shit’s tender. “Better?”

“Not quite, Ugh, jussst…,” Pentious keeps his eyes away from yours as he slips his arms around you. No! You shove your hands against his chest.

“Fuck off!” You bark. Stupid mother fucker! Pity has no place in Hell.

“Shut up!” Pentious snarls, hood popping open while his coils work your other leg into his corkscrew. “It iss positively freezing and I am simply keeping my core temperature regulated! That is all!”

You’re gonna burn this cigarette right into his goddamned--

Pentious glares right into your eyes. “Eat your wordsss. Don’t look into it.”

You won’t.

* * *

  
🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

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* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Hell yeah, Pentious. You are a goddamn boss. 😂 Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! This is kinda my new project now. Oops. I'm putting my Overlord work on hold because I fell in love with the plot and idea's I've outlined for this story. 
> 
> _Oh my god I spent hours reading about Nikola Tesla and all that crap Pentious spat forgive me if I'm wrong with any of it for Pentious is smart and I am not._
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	3. Symbiosis

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

Symbiosis

* * *

The many eyes notched into the wasp striped wallpaper of Pentious’ en suite lazily blink. Soap bubbles drift in the air while electrical coils curling with lightning buzz as they keep the freshly drawn bath at a simmer. Sheets of steam sigh from the tub. The faucet whines with a creak as you twist the handle. Beads of water drip from the spout while you slip a foot over the rim of the tub. You sink lower. Mmm.

You wanted to jet after Pentious popped like a cork out of you. Today’s garbage route is gonna drop off a heavy load at Ichor Valley’s pick and pull. After the last turf war between Buzzkill and Heartburn, shit near skid row got backed up. So, anyone who’s got half a fuckin’ brain is gonna be there pilfering for whatever they can get their grubby hands on.

...but that means no one is gonna be at the junkyard on Rancor lane. Heap-O-Junk is gonna be more barren than pubes on a child porn star. And you know what that means?

Uninterrupted rummaging. No one screeching that they saw this first or shoving you out of the way for that. That shit gets old real quick. So a quiet day at the yard? Other than sex, drugs, and booze it’s as close as it gets to heaven in Hell.

You squirt a dollop of shampoo onto your palm. Submerging the back of your head, you tunnel your hands through your hair, scratching your fingers into your scalp as you work up a thick lather. Chills race through your body as a shiver slides down your spine. Man, that feels so fuckin’ good. You haven’t had a bath in ages; Your place only has a shower.

With your hair now combing through your fingers like wet silk, you close your eyes. Mmm, it’s nice to soak. The Epsom salts are a fine addition, too. Pentious said they work wonders for him when he sheds, so he figured it would help with the pain between your legs. Heh. Your lips twitch with the hint of a smirk.

Above all else, you expected him to be a total fuckin’ ass when you both were able to separate from one another. 

_Disgussting whore! Why, you are drenching my sheets with that ssludge of an abortion concoction from that fesstering gape between your legs! Ugh! Get off of me!_

Your eyes were ready to roll like a set of dice. That’s what you were expecting.

What you got is why you’re still here and not at Heap-O-Junk.

All it took was one look.

_“Sslaves!” Pentious leaned his head over yours, biting at his words as he spat them. “Get in here this instant and make yourselvess useful!”_

_Three of his egg boi minions tumbled in, climbing over each other as they thrust the doors open. It’s like the fuckers had been on the other side the entire time._

_“Sir Pentious! Mr. Bossman, the mighty, wonderful, unrivaled and soon to be ruler of--”_

_Pentious’ lips curled back with a snarl. “Fools! Silence! Sstick one finger in an ear so that what I ssay doesn’t leave those empty sshells!”_

_Without skipping a beat, they all shoved a finger in an ear. Wherever their ears were, anyways. “Of course Sir Pentious, the beauti--”_

_“Dude!” You glanced over your shoulder. “Shut the fuck up!”_

_“Yess! Listen to my guesst and silence your god forsaken, verbal regurgitation!” Pentious jabbed a claw at his ensuite. “I refusse to be a poor host. Not my sstyle. I have class! So get your sorry assess in there and draw her a bath! Now! Also, fetch me my ssuit. It’s cold.”_

_“..Can we take a bath with yo--”_

_“Ssshut up and do as I say you good for nothing goddamn sycophantic, spineless, absent of vital organs, fowls! Now!”_

_After his minions scurried out, he turned his attention back to you._

All it took was one look.

You skim a finger along the surface of the water. Swirls of pink oil follow your finger tip as you lazily carousel them into motion. Greasy, but not unpleasant. More akin to a hair care moisturizer than lard. You close your eyes. Scooping up the diluted pheromones, you smear the substance around as you let the water take you into a float. 

What was that bullshit he spat the other day? Gentleman, not a scoundrel? Sounds about right. Yeah, those were his words. Yeah.

..Yeah.

A sigh tickles your lips on it’s way out. The cool tang of mint from the bath salts in a stark contrast to the warmth of the water is putting a haze on your mind. Something a little too sentimental for comfort. Something a little too fuzzy and whispering over your ear how you feel like music.

What the fuck kind of line is that, anyways? What kinda music? Are we talkin’ classical or rock n roll? For all you know, he could have been referring to some Van Halen bullshit. Ugh. _Hair bands._ No. Just no.

Man, fuck this. Don’t you have better things to be doing? With a sneer, you tug on the little chain keeping the plug in the tub. As the water funnels down the drain you hop out, snag a towel, and dry off. All the while the eyes on the walls take turns as they lazily blink.

You toss your towel over the door handle before kicking it shut. It looks like Pentious still has his ship docked on the Ocean of Souls cliff side. Beads of moisture dot the bay windows of his bedroom as cold light pours in. A chill climbs over your body as you rub your arms. Fuck, it’s cold. Clothes. Now.

Plopping down onto Pentious bed, you search for your clothes, retrieve them, and begin pulling them on. You think if you can make it to Heap-O-Junk by five then you won’t have to bring a lantern. Bastards haven’t fixed the street lights in you don’t know how long and it gets dark as shit. Doesn’t exactly make it easy to find stuff, and the last thing you want is to stick your hand through a pile of shit. Literal shit. Ew.

As you tug your pants on you notice something...off. Like when you hit the breaks and the car doesn’t stop. Your eyes snap to your holster. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned as heat rushes through your blood.

Your gun is missing.

The fluid that encases your brain has caught fire. Your head’s swimming as you yank on your sneakers. He’s dead. He’s so fuckin’ dead. You’re gonna off that black and decker pool toy noodle lookin’ mother fucker. No one takes from you.

He has to have a weapon somewhere around this goddamn room. You’re seething as you rip open his bedside dresser and shake it’s contents free. Glass vials, brass tubes, and cogs spill onto the floor. You grit your teeth. Damn it!

Nothing under his bed, between his mattress and box springs, or in his stupid fuckin’--You throw open the bottom drawer to his wardrobe. A grin that would send Jesus Christ himself to Hell tears a valley across your face. You snatch up the ray gun and give it a quick once over. Three rings around a needle nose barrel with some odd teal fluid purling where a magazine would be. You don’t know how this works and you don’t care.

All that matters is that this bad bitch has a trigger.

An assortment of nineteenth century paintings, violet eyes, and wall lanterns rattle as you slam the door shut to Pentious’ bedroom. You storm down the hallway with ray gun in hand and pointer finger on the trigger. Nothing else matters. You can barely think straight.

That colt python is the best weapon you’ve had in Hell. Despite the barrel jamming on occasion, it’s been damn good to you. Better weapons cost money you don’t have, and looting guns off of guards around Myrefall isn’t exactly a common occurrence. It's the luck of the draw. That colt python...other than the knives at home and your fire, that’s all you’ve got.

Fuck, it’s almost like a friend. Something that’s been there late at night when no one else was. When you can't sleep it’s been the one to take your mind away as you spun the chamber and watched the silver glint. Unload. Reload. You don’t go anywhere without it.

And you’re not going to start now. 

Rounding a corner, you enter a longer corridor with a flight of stairs at the end that leads down. A melody of wind chimes tickles the hallway as you stalk your way towards the stairwell. No, not quite wind chimes. Stronger, brassier. Like melancholy thunder. It gets deeper, but somehow pitchier, as you descend. 

Knock knock, mother fucker.

You kick the door in and as soon as you see black you take aim. And then you stop. A pause numbs your hand, trigger finger a little less itchy as you take in your surroundings. To the right, a waterfall of brass pipes climbs up the wall from an oak console decorated with black and white keys. To the left, a drafting table with an assortment of tools, bolts, and screws. Pentious stands in the middle with a claw on the pipe organ, tail working the pedal while he keeps his attention on the drafting table.

“Unlesss you intend to start something you have no hopes of finishing, put that thing down before you hurt yoursself,” Pentious scoffs. “Besidess, you are holding it wrong.”

You glance between his back and the trigger. “Uhh, no I’m not? Besides, how would you even know?! If you haven’t noticed you still have your back to me, asshole. So, unless you’ve got some parlor tricks that I don’t kno--....Oh. Oh, okay.”

Slowly, you lower the gun as the violet eyes fit into the walls all dart their pupils your direction. Your stomach drops as it hits you that he knew you were coming. He saw you rummage for the ray gun. He saw you storm down the halls. He saw you bathin--

A smirk takes your face as you rest the ray gun on your hip. “You got eyes in that bath tub, too?”

“Absurd! Do you know how painful that would be conside--?!” Pentious’ head whips to face you so fast you think it’s gonna snap off of his neck. “Ugh! Why?! I-I! Oh! How dare you insinuate that I am ssome type of pervert!”

“Oh, okay. Mhm. So you didn’t watch me bathe, then?” With a sway in your step, you inch forward. 

A blush creeps over his face. “No! Of coursse not! And even if I did happen to unironically catch a glance, it’ss my goddamn bathroom!”

Your lips twitch with a smirk. Okay, that’s adorable.

Pentious rears up as he snaps the bands of bow tie. “And another thing! Hossting with a hussy like you onboard, it’s necessary that I keep watch! Do you actually believe that I would just carelessly leave something out that you could sslay me with?! Hmm? Hmmmm? Cat got your tongue?! That’s right, didn’t think so!”

Does he ever shut up? You tap the tip of his gun against your hip as he continues. 

Pentious lifts his head into the air as he sets a hand on his chest. “Unlike you, I understand the fine art of war and watching my back. Which, allows me to my next point. Ahem. How in the Hell have you lasted this long in Hell?! You’re carelesss!”

…Well.

Shame claws at your throat. He’s got a point. Bad move, you just left your gun hangin’ out in your holster. You scratch the tip of his gun against your head. “Um...dumb luck?”

“Oh! Give me that!” Pentious bolts over to you and snatches the gun from your grasp. “Dumb is most certainly correct! Ugh! Thiss weapon is a prototype. Not a toy, Dahlia.”

A warmth creeps over your shoulders like a cloak. You like how he says your name. It rolls off of his tongue like a bouquet of flowers. Swallowing thickly, you avoid his gaze as you lift a hand towards his drafting table. “So, um. Not to be presumptuous..”

“It was bothering me, alright?!” Pentious crosses his arms over his chest. “Jusst knowing that it was bent out of shape was driving me nutss. Call it an inventor's curse, I ssuppose. Nevertheless, it was a ssimple repair. Nothing more than a pin spring swap.”

Gingerly, you creep over to his drafting table and bring your gun into your hands. The reflective pearl handle shimmers under the halo of light hanging above. With a soft smile, you squeak a thumb over the grip. Oily. “...Did you polish it?”

“And?!” Pentious scoffs before turning his head up once more. His tongue flicks out as he tastes the air. “It’s nice.”

“..Thank you.”

“Ohhh!” Pentious narrows his eyes as he snaps his face to yours. “I get a thank you?! Ssilly me. And here I was thinking that you were ssome type of ingrate.”

Pentious’ hood pops open as you lean forward and fuse your lips to his. His eyes grow wide before drooping closed as he whimpers adoringly. Your hand finds his cheek while his tail loops around one of your ankles. He didn’t have to fix your gun, let alone tidy it up. Also? He could have shot you in the dome point blank as soon as you kicked his door in.

Slanting your lips, you slip your tongue into his mouth with a twirl. More of him circles you as he twists coil after coil around your legs. He deepens the kiss as he laces his arms across your back. Inhaling through your nose, your eyelids flutter as his pheromones make themselves known. Mmm, like walking into an antique shop on a misty morning. You want to remember what he smells like, so you focus on committing the scent to memory. 

He’s been one of your better one night stands. 

With reluctance, you pull away. His lips follow yours, so you pepper him with a few more kisses before retreating. 

It’s said that in Hell time is an illusion. Months are instead days, hours are years, and centuries can pass in a week.

An eternity in a single second goes by as you both stare into each others eyes.

Pentious’ hood droops as he sets his sights on the doorway. “...General maintenance will be finalized on my airship here in approximately thirty minutess. Once completed, consider it my pleasure to usher you back home.”

“Wait. That means you’re _not_ gonna just kick me out here?”

A smirk takes Pentious’ face as he toys a claw tip against his chin. “I did take that into account when reviewing my optionss.”

You snort on a laugh. Of course he did. “Hey, um, actually? Can I be a total sack of crap and ask that you drop me off by Rancor lane?”

Pentious looks like he’s just caught wind of a skunk as he cocks up a brow. You laugh. “Don’t give me that look.”

Pentious waves a hand as he heaves a sigh. “Very well, then. I ssuppose that’s...narrowly acceptable.”

Sweet! That means you’ll probably get to Heap-O-Junk around noon! Oh man, you’re gonna get so much rad shit. Maybe you’ll find a new knife! Or, if you’re really lucky, maybe you’ll get your hands on a good bit of copper.. 

Pentious takes his place in the doorway as you wiggle your gun into your ankle holster. With both arms on the door frame, talons clicking in thought, he without warning glances over his shoulder and flashes you a toothy grin. 

You side eye him. “..What?”

Pentious’ tongue flicks between his lips as he tastes the air. You take a step back as he slides off of the doorway to surround you as he speaks. “There isss something you mentioned the other day. Ssomething that has been weighing on my mind. As a result of thiss, I have a proposition for you.”

“Myrefall palace borderss Cruelfeld,” Pentious’ tugs at one of his sleeves in adjustment. “Tell me, sssurely you know what intersects Cruelfeld?”

“Yeah, I know. One of your territori--” You sharply inhale. 

He’s nuts.

Pentious leans forward, throat rattling with a dark hiss as he grins. “Precissely. Understand that I will usurp both regions into my territory. It’ss only a matter of time. Conversely, in light of the information you sso freely gave me, that fool Grand Duke Alderman poses more of a threat than I had originally anticipated.”

You're nuts.

“Let me take a stab at this. You need someone who knows the grounds, right?” You fold your arms over your chest. “Alright. But what’s in it for me?”

Pentious’ magenta claw tips glint as he holds up two fingers. “Sssymbiosis. Rest assured that we will mutually benefit from this endeavor. The territory _will_ be mine. Once secured, you may do as you please when it comes to ransacking that sstain on the map that Alderman believes to be a palace.”

Heap-O-Junk just got dropped on your priority list like an unwanted pregnancy. Pentious is all teeth and violet eyes as you stick out your hand.

“Deal.”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

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* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> _“Ssshut up and do as I say you good for nothing goddamn sycophantic, spineless, absent of vital organs, fowls! Now!”_ \- This is one of my favorite lines that I've ever written. 😂 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. This story is just pouring from my finger tips like water. 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	4. Choke hold

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

Choke Hold

* * *

Hell’s red dawn filtering in through Pentious’ hexagonal control room casts an amber shimmer to his scales. The airship groans as he wraps a claw around the knob of an arm lift and drives the ship to a higher altitude. Engine fans whirl while gears thunk as they shift into place to accommodate the command. 

Your jaw tenses, seeming to crack as your ears pop from the change in cabin pressure. Wiggling your jaw helps relieve the tension, but now your left ear is all Helen Keller and shit. Ugh.

Tugging the arm lift left and then down, Pentious brings the ship to an idle hover. Steam hisses from valves along the belly of the ship while the motors hum. With a press of a button, his center console pops open and projects a digital diagram of the scene below.

Grand Duke Alderman’s palace sits nestled at the center of five domed bunkers, all placed in point to pay homage to Pentagram city. Dude’s a total kiss ass to Lucifer. He’s always taking what he collects off of taxes in his district and portioning off a chunk to the Magne family. Who in turn, could probably give two shits because like Hell if Lucifer needs money. He’s fucking Lucifer.

You think he does this to try and keep the peace around his area. Grand Duke Alderman might be a brown noser and a lazy politician in the western corner, but damn it all if his grounds aren’t well kept. Manicured lawns, fountains, wrought iron gates with a GDA monogram, the works. For someone with territory bordering the slums, this guy sure doesn’t fit in. Kinda reminds you of those gentrified places in India. 

Pentious curls his fingers under the hologram of the palace. With the foundation of the structure in his hand, his talons snap shut as he growls, “Ideally, I would ssmoke the tastelesss rapscallion out of his little fox hole.”

“Not gonna work. Alderman’s got more tunnels leading out of his estate than a Heroin junkie has tracks,” You light up a cigarette and take in a drag. “After Warhead tried that on him he dug up the airways real fast. He’s a fuckin’ coward, but he’s a _smart_ fuckin’ coward.”

“Oh, _pleasse_ ,” Pentious throws his head back and laughs. “He’s not as smart as I! Haha! Feasst your eyes on this!”

Pentious punches in some code onto a keypad adjacent to the diagram. The hologram of Alderman’s palace warps in a bend before exploding in a shower of particles that quickly reassemble and take the shape of a nose cone missile. Your lips twitch with a giggle behind them. Engraved into the side of the missile rests a cut out of his hat. Cute.

Pentious tents his fingers as he graces a hand upon his chest. “Thiss weapon of mass destruction of mine is guaranteed to busst any one of those mole hills. Alderman doesn’t sstand a chance in Hell! He’s ssimply delaying the inevitable at thiss point.”

You sigh a circle of smoke. “How many of those bad boys you got?”

Pentious purses his lips as he looks away. “....Two.”

“So, it looks like he actually stands three out of five chances in Hell.” 

Pentious’ hood flares as he rockets a talon up into the air. “Hah! Incorrect! Thiss is where your end of the bargain comess into play. Don’t conveniently forget that I require your eyess on the ground so that I can assure his annihilation. Then, his humiliation. I am posssitively itching to rub his demise in his face.”

Sounds like someone needs to get their monologue on. 

“Bring the diagram back up,” You gesture towards the hologram. Pentious punches in the code and up pops Aldermans palace once more. “Bottom left. That’s his preferred. However, he’s got body doubles stationed in all of them. Mother fucker is like Hitler.”

“It doesssn’t help our situation that he’s a doppelganger, either. Hm, this does bring to a head another point of contingency. How do you plan to overcome this obstacle, anyways? I don’t fancy the idea of ssending a payload down to the wrong target. It’ss Alderman that I want to ssquirm, not one of his clowns.”

“Trust me, I’ll know,” You smash your cigarette out against a passing by Egg boi minion. “Just keep watch on my back, alright? His guards take shifts around the perimeter and I’ve never dealt with them before. Keep in mind that I’ve only been on his grounds after he’s been hit; Not before.”

“Pardon?! What do you think I am going to be doing up here?! Sitting pretty? Well, actually, yess. Yess I will. However! That is not the point! It goes without ssaying that I will have your back. Your intel is valuable to me where Alderman’s downfall is concerned. Sshould you fall then I forfeit the leading opportunity to assume control of Myrefall. Understand that I am by no meanss a fan of attrition.”

Yeah, you know. This is his best shot to seize the territory with minimal effort. Once Alderman beefs up security, Pentious is going to have to throw a hell of a lot more at him than a missle or two. However…

You fish out your carton of cigarettes. With a sharp inhale you tug another one out, light it with a snap of your fingers, and shove it into your mouth. No doubt Pentious will pull through on having eyes on your six. He’s got the firepower and brains to prove it. It’s still stressful as shit, though. 

Alderman’s a pushover. His guards aren’t. There’s a reason why you don’t fuck with Alderman’s unless it’s fresh off the heels of a Turf war.

Pentious clicks a claw tip against his console. “Well, then? Go on, now. Cough it up!”

You raise a brow. The fuck does he want now?

Pentious scoffs. “Jusst what is your plan?!” 

Oh. Pffft.

“What? You tellin’ me you’re actually that dense?” You let a smug expression sweep across your face as his hood pops open with a scowl. Hah! Serves him right. Taste of his own medicine. 

“Whatever. You know, you’re not the only one with a few tricks up their sleeves,” Tendrils of thin smoke leave your nostrils. You look him dead in the eyes as you smirk. “Call it intuition.”

Pentious holds you in his gaze like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to solve under a time limit. Once realization takes him, he rears back with a grin that splits him open from ear to ear. “Mosst interesting! Tell me, does it work on proximity or line of ssight?”

“Sadly? I gotta see him,” You shake your head as you release a puff of smoke. “I’m not that strong. Even then, it doesn’t work all the time. Don’t worry, though. I’d say it’s an eight outta ten kinda thing.” 

Your first hint was just...knowing to avoid certain turfs. Couldn’t explain it. Next, was deciding to head out instead of going home your third year in Hell during the annual extermination. Your place got blasted. For awhile, you just figured it was your previous life experiences in prison keeping you on your toes. 

However, all demon’s powers are in one way a mock of their sins upstairs. At least, that’s what you think. Everyone’s got their own little conspiracy theory and it just adds to the chaos of it all. As is the way of Hell, after all. Needless to say, you’ve got excellent intuition. A gut feeling that rarely leads you the wrong way, so long as you’ll listen to it.

You’ll know it’s Alderman no matter what form or face he decides to wear. All you gotta do now, is find him.

* * *

  
  
Alderman’s is crawling with guards like maggots in the belly of a family pet that got lost behind the couch. The EMP Pentious hit the palace with was bound to stir them up like a hornets nest, but it was the only way to get you in on foot without triggering the alarm system.

Once active security camera’s droop with their lenses facing the ground along the circumference of the bunkers. Sparks fizzle along their wires. Marching footsteps with the accompanied shuffle of weapons and mechanical whispers tickle your ears. Your heart’s in your throat as you keep yourself concealed under the shadow of a statue. 

With your gun in one hand and clutching the homing beacon in the other, you wait for the guards to piss off. All you have to do is slap the beacon on the right door and make a run for it. Oh boy. Wheeew. You can do this. Just take a deep breath. 

If the inside of Alderman’s palace isn’t lined with fuckin’ gold then you’re going to play kickball with his corpse. Might do it anyways. Depends on how this goes.

Once the coast is clear, you inch your way around the Bunker. Bottom left. This is the one he fled too when Warhead tried to throw it down with him. You think he’s here because Alderman strikes you as a creature of habit. From the way his guards make their methodical rounds down to how he always has his lawn groomed on Tuesday mornings. 

More footsteps in a single file line. _Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!_ Fuck, they sound like sprinting thunder. You bolt behind a planter box spilling with thorn hedge and take a knee. Not gonna lie, the finger on your trigger is shakin’ like rocks in a blender. Alderman’s guards are marching vaults of steel that are damn near as tall as they are wide. They’re nothing to take lightly. However, fortunately you’re packing a little more heat than normal.

_“Why...Why would you use thiss for ammunition?”_

_He had asked to see your ammo. You forked it over, and he pinched the lipstick tube between his talons and regarded it as one would a moldy vegetable._

_“Oh, I dunno. Maybe it’s because I don’t shit lead?” You weren’t exactly in the mood to hear him criticize your shortcomings. You use what you can scrounge up, after all. “Anyways. Are you ready to get this show on the road or not?”_

_“Crass! Ugh, fine! Point taken. Nevertheless, hold your goddamn horsess,” Pentious flicked the lipstick tube towards one of his minions. Boing! After a direct hit, he tugged open a drawer near his console, rummaged around, until he retrieved a collection of loose bullet casings._

_He tossed you a smirk as he brought the empty shell to his lips. Fitting his fang into the tube, his eyes began to shift with color, purling from pink to green as he milked his venom. Nine bullets later, he rolled them into your palm._

_“Sshould you get cornered for any reason, hit those oversized household appliancess with one of these. They won’t sstand a chance in Hell.”_

You’ve got six in the chamber and three like loose change in a pocket. If this goes right, you won’t have to use any of them. 

With the marching of Alderman’s guards passed, you press on. Low to the ground. Death grip on your pistol. Sneakers sinking into wet grass. You steal a peak towards the sky and you can’t see Pentious. He’s too far up and concealed by Hell’s dark smog of clouds. Damn. That sets your teeth on edge. You really hope he can see you in case shit gets western.

The vault door is just around the corner. Only problem? After snagging a quick glance, you know there’s a guard in the way. Because of course there is. Fuck, you’re wondering if this is even worth it anymore. Pentious can fuck right on off with his conquest for territory bullshit. 

However…

Damn. Damn it all if Greed isn’t one of your favorite fuckin’ sins. 

You wet your lips. Back straight against the building. The hammer to your colt _clicks!_ as you pull it back. Here we go. Turning on a heel, you use the curve of the bunker to line up a shot. Aim for center mass.

The guard snaps to face you, throwing a hand up to his receiver as he shrieks, “ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕟𝕚--!” _Boom!_ “Bz̶z̴z̵t!---....” 

Sparks shower from the crater in the guards chest. Live wires spill out of the saw toothed wound. The guard crashes to its knees with both hands scooping at its parts. Your eyes widen as its chest begins to peel back and hiss as its eaten away by Pentious’ corrosive venom. Fuck, that’s...The guard dissolves like sugar in water, leaving nothing but a bubbling oil stain where he once stood.

Seizing the opportunity, you dash towards door. Wrapping a hand around one of the notches on the vault handle, you hoist yourself up and take stock of the bunker through a keyhole. Your stomach drops. Fuck! Mother Fucker! He’s not here! There’s just a bunch of guards and lookalikes huddled around an intercom table.

“𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖!” A guard shouts.

Rapidly approaching footsteps trample across the lawn. “𝕄𝕠𝕧𝕖, 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖, 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖!”

You kick off of the door and make a break for cover. Skidding on a knee, you throw yourself behind a statue. You scramble into the shadows. Fitting yourself between the base of the statue and it’s adjacent planter box, you try to make yourself as small as possible by tucking in your knees. Damn it! Fuck, this positioning is sketchier than three kids in a trench coat trying to buy pornography. 

You don’t know how many there are, but it sounds like a whole fuckin’ squad. A shudder of ice zings through your blood. Eight bullets and the bullshit you carry. Five in the chamber. If you fan the hamm--?! 

The sky roars as a volley of bars of violet energy assault the eastern corner of Alderman’s palace. Aftershocks carry a tremor across the grounds, causing you to bounce up and bash a horn against the lip of the statue. Fuck! The pain is sharp and sends your teeth into a grit. 

The footsteps race past you. “𝔸𝕚𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕖!”

“𝕆𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕣 𝕄𝕚𝕜𝕖! 𝔾𝕠!”

Marco polo, what? 

Peeking up from cover, you heave a sigh of relief as Pentious’ airship slips through the dark clouds. The belly of the ship hums with a pink edge before delivering another screaming shower of rays of violet light. God damn. What a distraction. 

Bullets and missiles of the like graze Pentious’ airship in return fire. It eats them for breakfast. Steam hisses from pipes along the ship as sheets of steel rotate in an exchange of position for canons. Black powder trails like smoke from shot cannonballs that _whump_ through the air. 

As Pentious trades blows with Alderman’s guards, you pick yourself back up. Quickly, you scan your surroundings. Sweet! It looks like all the guards have fucked off. Dusting off your knees, you figure your best bet is to go for the bunker up and to the left of the palace rather than the bottom right corner. Less ground to cover.

Mud and blades of grass collect in clumps along your sneakers as you dash towards the next bunker. Flashes of violet bathe the sky like strikes of lightning. The thunder of cannonballs accompanied by the rain of bullets follows. Smells like charcoal and battery acid.

No. It smells like war as you creep along the perimeter of the next bunker, find a guard, and drop it where it stands. _Boom!_ The guard’s gone like a string of yarn to a flame. Bye. Stepping over the slag, you heave yourself up by the aid of the vault handle. Let’s see...guards, guards, and oh. This bunker has a stripper pole and a working girl. A shiver of excitement bolts through you as she dances. However, it’s not because of her. 

It’s because of the man with a golden smile nursing a bottle while he teases a feather at her ankle.

_Alderman._

Gotcha, bitch. 

With a wicked grin, you slam the homing beacon onto the vault door. Cranking the dial, you wait for the _click!_ before hopping down. You drink in the sight of the two minute timer racing down to zero before booking it. Just want to imprint that into your memory, you know?

_Tick. Tick. Ticktickticktick!_

**_Btoom!_ **

The vault door tears off its hinges, thrown backwards as the missile from Pentious’ airship comes crashing in. The detonation roars in your ears like a sun as your hands fly to cover them. Flames ignite from the impact in a series of detonations. Sucking the oxygen from the bunker, the fire races forward in all directions, crackling as concrete chunks shower the grounds.

Damn. Sucks to be Alderman.

Dark smoke cradles the belly of Pentious’ airship as he hovers above the destruction. Just below the nose of the airship folds open with a mechanical hiss. Pentious cackles as he flicks a few overhead switches and descends on an elevator platform. 

You light up a cigarette on the steps to Alderman’s palace as Pentious snakes his way through the wreckage, laughing, “Bahahaha! Haha! Pleasse tell me you aren’t dead. Where are you, old chap?! Hahahaha! There you are! Oh. Oh my, well, here. Allow me, it ssseems you need a hand ssince I blew yours off.”

“Serp, ahnn, ughh, Serp-Sirr Pent? W-Why..?” Alderman rasps, reaching a bloody stump towards Pentious. “J-Just...w-wait until..Urk, Lucif--”

“Oh? Dream on! You actually think Lusscifer givess a damn about you? No,” Pentious’ yellow teeth consume his face as he leans in. “Conssider this a parting gift! A lessson in war. Deal with what liess before you and not sso far above you.”

Alderman’s face melts from the man he was into the monster he is as his form falters under the weight of expiration. Once tanned skin sloughs to grey while his eyes hollow to white. “Pl-Please, I-I, ahnn m-money..”

Pentious cackles as he corkscrews his tail around Alderman’s waist and squeezes. Clots of blood gurgle over Alderman’s lips as he groans while Pentious continues to laugh, “Money?! Hah! I own your ssoul now, fool! Your assetss. Your Territory. Everything you have ever possessed in your pathetic little life down here in Hell now belongs to me.”

“However, It sseems I am in rare form today,” Pentious allows a smug expression to tug at his lips while he snaps at his bow tie. “Hand over the commandss to your guards. Relinquissh their AI to me and I suppose I will sspare you your life.” 

A ring of smoke leaves your lips as you kick back on the steps. Good shit. Watching Alderman squirm is better than Television.

“Sssounds like a good deal to me, Alderman.” Pentious toys a claw tip against his chin while Alderman struggles to breathe. Veins bulge around his neck while the shredded ribbons of his vocal chords whistle,

“P-Pala...S-Safe! In the s-s...code. K-key is m-my birt..d-dayy urk,” Alderman doubles over with a sharp groan as Pentious releases him from his coils.

With a twirl of his talons, Pentious summons an energy pistol from a cloud of dark fog. Alderman glances up, rasping, “W-wai..wait! We..d-dea--?”

Pentious shrugs. “Imbesscile! I lied.”

With a maniacal grin, Pentious shoves the needle nose of his energy pistol into Aldermans face. A flash of teal light bursts from the barrel of his gun. A cone of red sprays from Alderman’s neck stump, steam kissing the air from the wound as his head _thunks_ to the ground. 

“Fuck yeah!” You smash your cigarette against the bottom of your sneaker as you laugh.

“Oh? You liked that, did you?” Pentious’ hood pops open with a smile as he stores his weapon away. Tugging at his lapels in adjustment, Pentious sighs around the song in his voice as he admits, “I cannot tell you how long I have been waiting for that moment.”

Yeah. Yeah, you liked that. Sweeping your hair back, you make your way towards Pentious and the wreckage. There’s an obvious pep in your step as you move around chunks of concrete and debris. Oh man, Alderman’s palace. It’s _yours._ If it’s not fuckin’ bolted down it’s _yours_. Even then, you have a screw driver for that. Actually, a few.

With a grunt, you heave yourself up on a block of concrete. Pentious ruffles up like a rooster as you fold one leg over the other and study the scene. He totally wants you to praise him. Cute as shit. However... You purse your lips. You gotta know. Glancing between Pentious and the headless stump of Alderman, you prod, “Soo..You gonna eat him?”

What? Pentious _is_ a snake, after all.

“Excuse me?!” Pentious’ eyes bug out. “What is wrong with you?! No! That’s absurd! Ugh! I don’t eat people?! Besides! I don’t know where that’s been!?”

You laugh. “Good point.”

Okay, that was kind of a dumb question.

Pentious scoffs before giving you an expectant glare. Your lips twitch with a smile. “Alright. Thanks for having my back.”

“As I told you I would!” Pentious jabs a thumb into his chest. “I keep my word.”

You toss a glance towards Alderman’s head. “I can see that.”

“Bah! He doesssn’t count.”

Cute.

“You’re not wrong about that,” You’re still staring at Alderman’s head while you snicker. Gold winks at you from a face still carrying the shocked expression of betrayal. Your nostrils flare. Oh. Oh you want that.

You hop off of the hunk of concrete, fishing around your pockets until you retrieve a rusty pocket knife.

“Hey!” Pentious barks. “Jussst where do you think you’re going, missy?”

Digging your thumb into the slot of your multi tool, you pop open a pair of pliers. “One sec.”

Stepping over Pentious’ tail, you squat beside Alderman’s head. Hooking your fingers through a hunk of his exposed skull, you yank his head back to allow his jaw to slack open. Bingo! Fitting a golden tooth between your pliers, you give a sharp tug to free your prize.

“Can you not?!” Pentious throws his arms open as he scoffs. You ignore him.

“Sweet,” You bounce the tooth in the palm of your hand as you drop Alderman’s head. Totally gonna use this to replace the button on your jacket that you lost. “What? You don’t do trophies?”

“I have no need for ssuch trivial tokens. Besides,” Pentious sweeps a hand before him. “My rising ssovereignty over Hell does sso much more than any trinket could ever hope to accomplish!”

“Still a trophy,” You rebuke. “Just on a different scale.”

“ _That_ is a tooth. This?! Hah! This is an ever increasing empire!”

“Still a trophy,” Shoving a hand into your back pocket, you trade your pocket knife for your carton of cigarettes. Lifting the carton to your mouth, you tug out a stick with your lips while you stroll over to Alderman’s palace. 

You’ve got shit to dig into.

Absent a dancer, there’s what you think might have been the stripper pole to your left. Too hard to tell with the way it’s gnarled and twisted around a fused wedge of concrete and what was once a table. Fire licks from the spider webbed cracks along the rubble, so you swipe your cigarette through the flames to light it.

“Oh?! Ugh! How dare, why--you, I, Hey! Get back here when I’m talking to you!”

So demanding. The chuckle in your voice causes your ring of smoke to come out lopsided. “Nah.”

He didn’t like that. It’s not long before the space beside you is taken as you make your way up the steps. “Ungrateful hussy! You wouldn’t be here if not for me!”

Your lungs burn as you cough on your cigarette. “Dude! You wouldn’t be here without me, either. So, can you shove off? I’ve got shit to rip into. We had a deal, remember?”

“Fine!” Pentious barks his scoff. Just as you go to wrap your fingers around the door handle before you, he beats you to the punch as his talons curl around the knob.

You roll your eyes. “What now?”

“Pardon? You truly believe you’re the only one that is curiouss about Alderman’s palace? Bah! Come now. I mussst know what tacky array of apparel the fool has, err, haha, _had_ in his wardrobe,” The door creaks open as Pentious pushes it forward. “Ssshall we?”

...Huh.

Warm buttery light from chandeliers within the palace spill at your feet. As you sigh a bit of smoke you tap your cigarette against a pillar. Ashes drift from the tip like specks of dust caught in a whirlwind. You don’t let a smile take you. Instead, a smirk paints your face as you step under his arm and into the palace.

“Sure.”

  
  


* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Imbecile! I lied. _YEET._
> 
> 💋 Check out my Tumblr/Deviantart for some artwork I did of Sir Pentious and Black Dahlia! 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	5. Disenchanted

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

Disenchanted

* * *

Loose screws, bolts, and planks of wood from a freshly torn apart office desk lay off to the side of Alderman’s study. Squares of discoloration decorate the walls where once hanging paintings rested. Too bad nothing was behind them. Slots of blood stone in the crown molding are now vacant with nothing to show of their home other than scrapes from a screwdriver used to pop them out.

Beads of sweat dot your forehead.

The leather upholstery of Alderman’s sofa rips at the seam under the weight of your pocket knife like a pair of worn jeans finally blowing out at the thigh. Which is the fuckin’ worst, by the way. 

You do what you can to make your cuts of leather neat, clean, and about as wide as your forearm. Nothing too much, but nothing that you can’t trade. Gotta get the most bang for your buck. Leather isn’t the most valuable scrap in Hell, but it’s still a sought after material. It’s great for weapon handles or for those poor bastards down here who still think they can make it in the fashion industry. So many Gucci knock offs. 

Taking apart the couch doesn’t take long. You’ve got a fair bit of practice under your belt, after all. Just...not on anything this nice. Most of the time the shit you come across has already been torn into, stained, or barely recognizable as anything other than a burnt shape. 

After stuffing the strips into a pillow case lifted from Alderman’s bedroom, you decide on your next target. The leather will trade nicely, but it’s not gonna be enough for V.C.R. this month. Sure, V.C.R. is cheap. Nevertheless, taxes in Parkside are still taxes and you don’t feel like dealing with back pay or having a hit put on your head for not paying the bastard.

Hmm. As much as you’d love to take apart some of the chandeliers? You can only take with you what you can carry. Furthermore, the demons you typically trade with aren’t interested in the fancy shit. They want what’s useful; Not pretty.

Unfortunately, Alderman was like that. All show and no actual function. Fuckin’ tits on a boar. Sigh. As is his damn palace…

Outside of his military personnel, of course. Alderman’s guards are worth a fortune. Naturally, Pentious has seized them for himself. Which in turn, is fair. The palace is technically Pentious’ now so you’re kinda ripping into his stuff, after all. However, he could give a shit. From what you understand of Pentious, he just wants to collect the taxes off of Myrefall and the demons that live in this sector can do as they please with the palace.

...So long as they pay his taxes. Pentious doesn’t fuck around when it comes to collecting what’s his. Makes sense. How else would he afford to keep his airship, inventions, and weapons in steady production? 

After some careful deliberation, you think you’ll go after the bathrooms. The faucets are stainless steel and can be melted down into a few nice things. Anti corrosive bullets, armored window blinds, the works. Not the best, but you have a feeling that good old Star Light might have a customer or two who may have an interest. 

Just as you reach your first bathroom, fingers curling around the knob that you’re totally going to unscrew and plop into your knapsack, you hear the unmistakable charge blast of Pentious’ energy pistol. What the fuck?

With a roll of your eyes, you snatch your colt python out of its holster and race towards the direction of the sound. Damn it, he probably triggered some anti theft system. Dumbass. Ugh, as you bolt down the hallway you’re thinking why are you even wanting to help him? Ugh, if Pentious goes down chances are you go down as well. With this in mind, it’s better to give support than to turn a blind eye. 

Throwing the door open, you barge in with a sweep of your gun from left to right in a scan of your surroundings. Then you stop. 

You bite back a laugh as Pentious blasts the external hinges of the safe before him with his energy pistol. A flash of teal light consumes the air. Steaming, the hinges of the safe glow cherry red before hissing to a quiet. Oh, so that’s what he’s been up too. 

Leaning an arm against the door frame, you tuck your gun away as one of Pentious’ Egg boi minions come rushing in. 

“Boss!” Egg boi 67 throws his hands in the air as he exclaims, “Are you alright?!”

Pentious seizes the minion with a yank of his tail, binding him in a corkscrew as he growls, “What doesss it look like, you fool?!”

Egg boi 67 blinks between Pentious and the safe. “...No?”

“Confounded thing locked me out,” Pentious mutters. Without warning, his voice raises as he bares his fangs and barks, “Fetch me my code cracker! And make it sskippy!”

Carelessly, Pentious flicks his tail and tosses the Egg boi minion out the window. While crashing through the glass, his fanatically loyal subject shouts a _Yes, Mr. Bossma--!_ before splattering on the ground below.

Chuckling as you approach the window, you note, “So uh, who's gonna get your code cracker now?”

Poor Egg boi 67 got Humpty Dumpty’d. 

Pentious groans as he lurches over the window awning and shouts, “Pull yourssself together!”

Promptly, two minions toting a broom and dustpan arrive and collect number 67. 

Alright, time to turn your attention back to the safe. “You try the estate number or his birthday?”

“Of coursse I did,” Pentious stabs a claw tip towards the couch littered with documents. With a sigh, Pentious crosses his arms. “I’ve tried everything you can think of, trusst me.”

You blink between Pentious and the safe. Hm. They’re rare, but you’ve come across a few in your time down here in Hell. 

Sigh. You pick at your nail. “...Let me see it.”

“Excusse me?!” Pentious scoffs. “You actually think you can get into that thing where I couldn’t? Bah! As if!”

You half expected that response. Nevertheless...with a shrug of your shoulder, you respond, “Worth a shot.”

Pentious weighs his options on his face as he glares around the room. Heaving a sigh, Pentious slaps a claw on top of the safe before shoving it across the table towards you. “Fine! But don’t blame me when you inevitably fail!”

Ugh. He’s such an asshole. Rolling your eyes, you turn the face of the safe your way and squat. Let’s see….gingerly, you wrap your fingers around the radial dial to give it a few clicks. Nothing. It’s completely jammed. Yep, Pentious is locked out tight.

Placing your ear against the side of the safe, you give it a few knocks. Hollow. Okay, you can work with this. Fortunately, you don’t think the steel is that thick. After giving it a few more taps though, a wince tugs at your lips.

Reinforced concrete. So that’s why Pentious’ gun didn’t get through the hinges. Figures.

Well. Time to see who burns hotter; Pentious’ energy pistol or you. Snapping your fingers, you bring a roar of flame to life. With the fire curling around your hand, you fill your lungs to bring it back to fit over your index finger like a drill bit. 

Here goes nothing. 

Steam whistles from the safe as you wedge your finger between the hinge and the seam. Patience pays off after a few seconds as you begin to sink through the steel. Anchoring down, the safe sizzles from red to a glowing white along it’s crease as you control your breathing to increase the temperature. A light headed fog enters your mind, but you think nothing of it. You just press on while steel peels in curls away from the heat as it tries to escape.

Like a hot knife through cream, the safe curdles before the hinges pop off, shooting the door down to the floor with a hiss. 

Subsequently, you take a knee with a raspy breath. Wow. Your head feels twice as big as normal, pounding, like you can _feel_ the air around you. Palpable. Hot. You close your eyes. D-Damn. That took more out of you than you had originally anticipated. 

“I hope you don’t expect me to ssay thank you,” Pentious moves around you and retrieves the contents from within the safe. You’d roll your eyes buuut the pain behind them is like needles stabbing through cotton. Ugh, you just need a minute to collect yourself.

Pentious mutters to himself as his talons click at the control panel within his grasp. “Hah! Outside of his desperate attempt to keep his…” Pentious grows quiet as you fumble a hand up to the lip of the table so you can hoist yourself up. 

With a pained grunt, you tug yourself to stand. The room spins as Pentious sets the control panel down and fits his claws on your waist in aid of guiding you up to your feet. 

Well, well, well.

A smirk pulls as your lips as Pentious tongue flicks out, nearly brushing against your nose as he whispers, “Jusst what is the matter with you?” Pentious eyes trace your face. “Your cheekbones are all ssunken in.”

Shit. You touch your cheeks just to make sure, and yep, you’re all deflated like an abused blow up doll. “Look, don’t worry about it.” 

You’ll take care of it later. Find some guy, fuck him, then get your strength back.

Pentious glances away as he glides a claw tip to your cheek. “..I didn’t require your assistance. Why did you put yourself needlesssly at risk.”

You have enough of your wits about you to know that was rhetorical. Your heart flutters though as a warmth floods your veins while the skin beneath Pentious’ talon begins to grow plump and fill with color. Holy shit. You bite your lip. “Aww! You care about me!”

“Hardly!” Pentious yanks his hand back, clutching it to his chest as if he had instead just been caught with it in the cookie jar. “Your existence is merely amiable to my own at this given point in time! Nothing more!”

You cup your jaw. Everything feels back to normal. Soft, but firm. Looks like you _don’t_ have to find some John and toss him a pity fuck to regain yourself. Sending Pentious a smile, you fish around your pants pockets for your carton of cigarettes before breathing, “If you say so.”

“In fact, I do! I do ssay so! Hmph!” Pentious snatches up the control panel from the table before throwing his hands to his hips. “It sshould be you that’ss grateful for the pleasure of my company! Not the other way around!”

Heaving a sigh, you light your cigarette before hopping up onto the table. Folding one leg over the other, you plop the cigarette into your mouth, rolling it around before musing, “You know, you’re not half bad.”

“My dear,” Pentious chuckles as he exits the room. Fluffing up his hood as it flares open, he pauses to sigh, “Undersstand that I’m _all_ bad.”

You cough on a laugh around a ring of smoke. Damn. You think you’re going to miss him. 

After enjoying the clove spices of your cigarette you head towards the bathrooms and tear them apart. All while sweat pours from your forehead as you work a wrench, you can’t help but let your mind drift to the night before. 

Yeah.

...Yeah.

You’re gonna miss him.

Hell is for the lonely, after all.

* * *

The cylindrical fans along the fins of Pentious’ airship beat against the grass of Myrefall palace. A hiss fills the air as the belly of the ship slides open and sends down a ramp. Marching in three single file lines, Alderman’s guards make their way up into the airship while Egg boi minions scratch their pens against clipboards as they take stock. 

Not a bad haul. A fair bit of them are damaged, but Pentious can get them back up to speed. Huh, wonder what he’s gonna do with them. Their scrap would sell for a fortune, but they’re probably worth more in functioning order than in bits and pieces. Maybe he’ll keep a few on the ship with him?

Who knows.

“Excuse me? Miss Dahlia?” Looks like one of Pentious’ minions wants your attention. Slinging your pillow sack haul over your shoulder, you sigh a circle of smoke.

“What?”

“Mr. Bossman would like to see you before we depart.”

You smash your cigarette against the bottom of your sneaker before blowing a cloud of smoke towards the little bastard. “Sure.”

“Hey!” The minion coughs while waving his hands around his face.“That’s not very nice!”

“Tough shit,” You step over him as you head towards the airship. “I’m not nice.”

You make your way down the palace steps, knapsack shifting its contents as they clink all the way down. It wasn’t at all what you expected to get, but hey. Something is better than nothing. A new knife would have been cool, though. 

Unfortunately, high risk does not always equal high reward. 

While stepping around debris that litter the lawn, you spot Pentious. He’s to the right of the ship, surrounded by his Egg boi minions and one of Aldermans guards. The roar from his engines makes it so that you can’t hear him, but it’s obvious with the way he’s gesturing that he’s giving orders.

Pentious glances over his shoulder as you nudge his tail. “Hey.”

“Leave uss,” Pentious hisses with a wave of his hand. Without another word, his minions scramble away like tumbleweeds while the guard stomps after them. 

“What do you want?” Your eyes roam over him as he tugs at his bow tie. 

“Iss it so much that I ask to bid you farewell?” Pentious mutters under his breath. “Damn hussy.”

Your lips twitch with a smirk as you sigh around a chuckle. “I mean, I did have to walk around all of that shit to get to you.”

“Oh, what a travesty! Ssuch a Pity! What type of gentleman do you take me for, anyhow? Do you truly believe I would deny you a last leissurely stroll through my latesst victory?”

“Ugh!” You laugh as you lay a hand on his forearm. “Just so you know? I don’t like you.”

Pentious cackles as a grin carves itself into his face. “Hah! Quite frankly, I find that I don’t like you either.”

The lump that has suddenly formed in your throat is a bitch to choke down. Goodbye’s are never easy. This would have been better if he had just gotten onto his ship and flown off, leaving you on the steps of the palace to figure out what to do next. Instead, you’re staring at him while he stares at you, trying to find out whether or not to actually say goodbye or keep a conversation going to delay the inevitable.

Pentious glances between you and his airship a few times. Releasing a sigh, you slide your hand off of his arm and shove it away in a pocket. You face the ground. Something tells you that you could probably leave with him. The invitation is there if you want to take it, he just kinda strikes you as that type of guy.

It’d be nice. Good conversation, sex, and that antique smell you don’t think you’ll ever forget.

It’d be nice.

...However, that type of whimsy is for story books and bubblegum teens that have yet to have had their sense of wonder stolen. Not you. Not in Hell. 

Hope is for the weak.

A piece of your heart breaks off into your stomach as you turn and walk away. “Later, Pentious.”

Pentious gives into a slight bend of his chest as he closes his eyes and sighs, “Very well, then. Farewell, Black Dahlia.”

You can’t shove a cigarette any faster into your mouth as Pentious’ airship takes off. The once sturdy gates of Alderman’s estate come crashing down as you kick them open. Stomping over the monogram, you suck on your cigarette as you take the shortest route home. 

With a shaky exhale of smoke, you adjust your pillow case of goods. You’ll turn the scrap and such in tomorrow. Maybe you’ll take a trip to Heap-O-Junk before that. Who knows. But right now?

..Right now, you just want to nurse that bottle of gin underneath your bed and sleep. 

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Awww. That last bit made my heart sad. And so we say goodbye to Sir Pentious for a bit (Only one chapter, I promise), but I swear to you all, when we see him again it will _so be worth the wait._ 😂💝 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	6. Parks and Recreation

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

Parks and Recreation

* * *

As above; So below.

Everything is connected. On Earth, as it is in Heaven, or so the saying goes. Only thing? They missed one crucial part of the trinity.

Hell.

Everything makes its way down to Hell, eventually.

Everything.

Heap-O-Junks aluminum sign creaks as it sways from its crooked lamp post. Derelict oil rigs burn with dirty fire in the distance. The rusted hull of the Titanic groans as it scrapes against an ever crumbling hunk of the World Trade Center in the howling morning wind. 

Air planes ranging from Flight 19 torpedo bombers up and to Air France Flight 447 dot the hills of the Junkyard in smoldering clumps. Amelia Earheart’s bright red Lockheed 5B Vega is even here, somewhere. Shit, the poor thing never stood a chance. Rumor has it that once she hit the Bermuda triangle she flew straight into Hell and burned to a crisp before her plane even got a chance to crash here.

Yachts. Moldy furniture. Abandoned vehicles on the state highway. Those socks you thought your dryer ate? Nah. Those ended up in Hell. You know that waste they dump in the oceans upstairs when the landfills are overflowing?

As above; So below.

Everything makes its way down to Hell.

Stretching your mouth wide in a yawn, you make your way down one of the many carved paths through the piles of trash that pervade Heap-O-Junk. Everything is so brown, orange, and smells like an armpit if an armpit could get infested with the sour tang of chlamydia. 

You get used to it. 

From what you wager, the stuff you picked up from Alderman’s palace isn’t going to be enough for this month's taxes to V.C.R. Which in turn, is why you’re here. There’s nothing worse than showing up to trade in goods and thinking you’re gonna get more than what you bargained for and coming up short.

So you thought you’d take a preemptive move and come on down to Heap-O-Junk. That and...you just wanted to be somewhere else. Home didn’t help and neither did the gin. Sleep didn’t come easy last night. It was one of those paradoxical nights where you think of nothing but everything. The kind where you stare at the alarm clock and 2am becomes 5am within the blink of an eye but feels like a goddamn eternity. 

Releasing a sigh, you kick a can out of the way as you continue down your path. 

At least you don’t have a hangover, right? You just popped some pills and were good to go. Funny how that works. Hell has a solution for everything. It’s not all fire and brimstone like the fanatics upstairs say it is. Quite the opposite, actually. You wanna get high? There are drugs in vending machines. Need a drink? Chances are there’s a bar on your street with cheap liquor. Sex? Everyone wants to fuck. Get your teeth knocked out? Buy a needle of Devil’s Luck off of the Black Market and you’re good to go. Short on cash?

Head to a junkyard.

Hell has it all laid out on a buffet table for consumption. Because that’s what sinners do. They consume. You consume. No one down here really adds anything beneficial to the world or ever did, and that’s why you think all the heartache, heaps of trash, and shit end up in Hell.

You see, Hell isn’t about learning some lesson, repenting, or screaming as some demon lashes at your skin with a whip. Unless you’re into that kinda thing.

Hell is about eternal damnation. It’s the voice in your mind after finishing a project that tells you it’s not good enough. You’re not good enough. At times, it’s that memory you can’t shake no matter how much you drink, smoke, or try to fuck it out of your system.

Hell is degradation of the mind. It’s a fuckin’ slow acting venom that only ever keeps you on the edge of death. Just enough to let you know you’re alive and suffering. Unfortunately, there’s no cure for that. That’s Hell. At least, it is in your case.

Shards of broken glass crunch beneath your sneakers. Cockroaches pop out from between torn bags of garbage and wilted cardboard boxes. Their feelers flicker, testing the air as you walk by before darting back into darkness. Demons who got here earlier than you did bicker over glinting hubcap wheels. Dumbasses. Everyone knows the rims are what’s valuable. 

Stacks upon stacks of crushed automobiles from all parts of time reveal themselves from behind mountains of trash as you enter the quieter part of the junkyard. Not many demon’s come back here. Most of the stuff has been combed over once, twice, three times over. Furthermore, there’s always the risk of yanking on something a bit too hard and getting squashed. Gotta be careful. It’s like real life Jenga in these parts.

Rusted refrigerators absent their doors. Engines gritty with dry oil. Air conditioning units with their guts ripped out. The exposed cabin of a Boeing 777 with torn seats and half burnt safety manuals. It’s all been picked at like a scab. 

However, there are diamonds in the rough if you know where to look.

Swinging a makeshift grappling hook, you put your shoulder into it as you heave the anchor of your nylon rope up and over the Boeing 777. _Clink!_ It bounces off. 

Damn it.

After three more tries you anchor your lure. Giving it a swift tug to make sure you’re caught on something sturdy, a satisfied grin sweeps over your face. Got it. With one firm foot placed on the side of the plane, you begin to heave yourself up one step at a time.

Not everyone knows where to look. Fortunately for you, not everyone has read enough material about World War 2 airplanes and how they were manufactured. Heh. Never once thought that all of that reading in the prison library would pay off.

Sadly, there was nothing on the airplane you’re currently scaling. Hadn’t been made yet; This bad boy was constructed years after your execution. Furthermore, all the books in the library had been donated and most donations predated anything modern. Or, as modern as your era was. However. In contrast to what you don’t know, there’s so much that you do know.

The anatomy of a plane, no matter how many years pass, remains the same. 

With a grunt, you slip through a serrated crack in the airplane’s cockpit. You retrieve your grappling hook, clip it back onto your belt, and fish out some tools from your messenger bag. Wrench. Type-side cutters. Vise grip. Ratchet with loose sockets at the bottom of the bag. Multi tool with a Phillips screwdriver, a flat head for good measure, and an allen wrench. Last but not least, you tug on a pair of workers gloves, fitting them between your teeth as you pull them down tight around your wrists. Mm, they still smell like motor oil. Sweeping away layers of dust from the dashboard of the console, you lay out your assortment of tools. 

Time to get to it.

Avoiding the springs of the weathered pilots chair, you take a seat. All of the different buttons, dials, and flip switches glitter as light spills in from the cracks in the aircraft canopy. You’ll salvage everything you can carry. The paneling is always a favorite. They’re thin enough so that lift off isn’t an issue when it comes to accommodating the weight of the metal, however their blend of epoxy resin and tempered carbon makes these sheets of aluminum more akin to a shield than something that merely keeps the cargo bay together.

Demon’s like these for a few reasons. By far, melting them down is the most popular. Great for pouring into molds for ammunition or for demon’s like Pentious looking to manufacture their own airship.

…Pentious.

Heh.

Giving way to a sigh, you collect your ratchet. While digging around your bag for the right socket, you figure that you can get the most right now if you nab a few panels, cut them into sections, and scrounge up some nuts and bolts. That should all fit in your bag with enough room to spare for some of the control panel buttons. If not, you always have your pockets.

All of this in combination with what you have at home to sell and trade should be more than enough for V.C.R. this month. With this in mind, you figure that you’ll save the copper from the wires you’ve exposed for later. No use in taking it home now, it’s safer here. In your earlier years in Hell, you had to learn the hard way that if you live in the slums it’s not exactly the wisest choice to keep anything valuable in your apartment. Robbery is a common occurrence.

However, they get bored when they find out that you don’t have anything worth stealing. As a rule, you now only take what you can sell with only a margin above in case of emergencies. The rest stays where you found it for next time.

Sweat drips in beads down your cheeks. Droplets fall from your nose and splash on the control panel while you carry on. The back of your neck feels like a goddamn humid swamp. Ugh. You grit your teeth as you work out stubborn screws with every crank of your ratchet. Nuts and bolts _ping!_ as they bounce to the floor. Plates of metal whine as they’re cut and portioned off into manageable segments.

Only after you’ve finished what you started, gathered your tools, and put away your haul do you fall back into the pilot's seat. You close your eyes. Damn, it’s fuckin’ hot in this cockpit. What you wouldn’t give for a cool breeze right now, right? 

The bus home won’t get here for another hour or so. Tossing your legs up onto the dashboard, you sink further into your seat, because although it’s hotter than a pedophile on a playground in here, it’s better than waiting at the bus stop while demon’s harass you with _Hey, whatcha got there?_

You really don’t feel like busting a cap off in someone's ass today.

* * *

With a groan caught in your throat, you spin on a heel and head back into the junkyard.

The bus is late.

Nope. 

That one demon who looks like Elvis if Elvis was obese and died of exposure rather than a heart attack is taking up three quarters of the rest stop. Ugh. Doesn’t help that he’s one of those homeless types of fuckers that just stares at you expectantly. Has that permanent _help me_ gloss in his eyes. Fuck him. Hell is tough on everyone.

You’ll wait it out inside on a tractor tire.

To pass the time, you slip your gun out of its holster and take a few pot shots at some soda cans spilling down a heap of trash. With a spin of the chamber you take ready, aim, and fire. _Boom!_ The gunshot echoes through Heap-O-Junk. The bullet misses the soda can you had in your sights, leaving a crater in the mountain of garbage before you.

Gotta love the impact of a Colt python.

A hiss sighs through the air. Trash bags bubble and pop as they sag into a melt. Dripping bits of plastic sizzle as they hit the dirt. Promptly, they disappear leaving nothing but a smear on the ground. Your eyes widen. The pile of trash caves in on itself as it’s liquefied. Wisps of steam whistle from where the garbage once was.

You...You forgot about the bullets Pentious gave you. Oops!

...Wonder how he’s doing? 

Ugh! Why does he keep finding a way into your head?!

No! You shove him out just like you do everything else. Bye.

Sneering, you switch out the corrosive rounds with your standard shells. Lipstick tubes packed with shrapnel. Sure, they can’t melt shit like _that_ but they’re cost effective. The junkyard is loaded with them. Hell is full of whores, after all. 

Man, you know what else Hell’s junkyards are full of? Heartache. Ugh, god damn it. Don’t think about that. Anyways, Furbies. Hell is full of Furbies. For some reason all of those little furry bastards make it down here. Creepy as fuck. You’ll be minding your business, digging through a pile of garbage for scrap, and then you’ll hear the unmistakable whine of one of them turning on and speaking gibberish.

Most of the time you just take out their batteries and toss the little bastards away. Bye. However, you do have one or two at home. What? Creepy doesn’t mean they can’t be cute. Furthermore, you found one of those Valentines day special edition ones a few years ago. 

Glancing over your shoulder, you catch wind of the bus coming down the road. The wheels beat against the tar as the bus comes to a groaning halt. The pressurized doors whine as they wheeze open. Hopping off of the tire, you shove your gun into it’s holster, adjust your messenger bag, and race towards the bus.

Time to get back to Parkway and take care of business. 

* * *

Bartering is a learned skill. 

Gotta learn when to give so that you don’t piss people off and ruin your reputation, but you also gotta understand when to take so that you don’t come across as someone that can be taken advantage of. 

When you first crashed in Hell, you were walked all over like a sidewalk. You were desperate for anything, really. Just trying to find a way to survive so you would take the first deal you were offered.

However, as time went by? You entered what you like to call your rebellious phase in Hell. Similar to adolescence, you matured from infant to teenager and became a self proclaimed hard ass and were done with being used for an easy trade.

That shit sucked. Strutting around like the Terminator not only shattered your standing with the local pawn shops, but it also earned you more than a few ass kickings. Put the barrel of your gun to one shop owners temple and soon no one wants to do business with you. Even in Hell, there’s a code by that of which demons abide by.

Fortunately, that’s all in the past. You’ve learned through all the blood, sweat, shit, and tears. Now, you’re that nice blend of aggressive and passive. Assertive. Shops know they can trust you while understanding that they can’t get one over on you.

Next on the docket; Mad hound’s bazaar. After successfully trading off a good chunk of your scrap to a few different vendors you know, you figured it best to hit up Mad hound for your other stuff. He’s always eager to buy up everything and anything he can get his paws on. He’s one of those shaggy old wolf demons with shelves of eclectic items ranging from baseball cards to gilded watches. Rumor has it that the overlord Ra even stopped by his shop, once. 

That alone was enough to gain him a fair bit of traction, making Mad hound’s bazaar arguably one of the most popular pawn shops in the western corner. 

Blowing a circle of smoke, you smoosh your cigarette against the bottom of your sneaker before entering the shop. 

“Hey Mad dog,” The door slides shut behind you with a ring of a bell. “Got some goods if you’re interested.”

Mad hound glances up from his curio counter of assorted trinkets. Setting down a pair of tweezers and removing his glasses, Mad hound gestures towards you with an open paw. “Depends. What’re ya carryin’?”

You approach the counter. From the looks of it, you’re the only one here besides him. Good. Fishing out a petite cloth pouch, you allow a smirk to take your face as you rest the parcel in his paw. “See for yourself.”

Clearing his throat with an emphasis that he wears with a shimmy of his shoulders, Mad hound pours the contents out. _Clink! Clink! Clink!_ The collection of bloodstone spills onto the glass counter, glittering under the lowlights of the shop. 

After inspecting a few of the jewels with a magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers, Mad hound speaks. “S’alright. Whaddya want?”

“Forty a stone,” Mad hound frowns. Yeah, you expected that. Bingo. Time to hit him with what you really want. Tossing a glance towards your bag, you muse,“Or twenty five and you buy all the leather I brought.”

Mad hound’s ears twitch as his frown transforms into a smile. “I be likin’ the sound of that. Sounds to me like you’ve got yourself a trade, little lass.”

Sweet. 

While Mad hound makes the exchange and waddles off to gather your end of the bargain, you peruse his shop. Eyeing the center island with a display case, you meander your way over. It’s what you expected. Expensive wedding rings traded in for drug money, pearls for abortions, Rolexs for child support, the usual. 

The rest of his shop is about the same. Nothing of particular interest...until you spot a hawkbill knife with a prismatic handle. Oh.

You want that.

Watching your reflection in the reflective steel of the knife as you examine it, you call out, “Hey! How much for the new hawkbill?”

“Eighty.” 

You purse your lips. “Sixty five?”

Mad hound grunts as he shuffles from behind his counter with a fist full of cash. “Eighty five.”

“Seventy. Seventy or it sits here and collects dust.” 

Mad hound counts out your money, minus seventy five that he makes a point of stuffing into his pocket. You shrug a shoulder as you take the cash and the knife. Not bad. You could push him a bit more but it’s better to not sour a good working relationship. A five dollar savings is better than a no dollar savings, after all. 

“See you around, Mad dog.”

Mad hound hobbles back to his counter, coughing as he rasps, “Tis a pleasure doin’ business with ya, as always.”

 _Ding!_ The door slides shut as you exit. 

A satisfied smirk sweeps over your face as you count your earnings. As expected, everything you brought in sold like drugs at a frat party. Post extermination, everyone is hungry for a little bit of everything. Lucky for you, this means you have enough for V.C.R. for the month and a nice bit of change left over.

Digging your phone out of your pocket, you check the time. It’s a little after seven in the evening. Eh, you’ll pay V.C.R. tomorrow. Right now, there’s one last place you’d like to stop by before turning in for the night.

Turning down a dark alleyway, you toss a glance over your shoulder before slipping between two buildings and into another alley. Then another. And another. Place is like a damn maze at times, but the best Black Markets are those that are hard to find. 

Fourth door down, the one with a tattered cloth fluttering over the top and iron wrought guard rails lining the trio of steps up to the entryway. Curling your fingers around the knocker, you give three good hard bangs. Pause, and then another four a tad softer before twisting the knob and slipping inside.

Dream catchers of many different sizes and hues sway from the ceiling. Some have feathers dangling from their bottoms while others glitter with crystals, beads, and finger bones. Shelves loaded with rusted appliances and other knick knacks consume the walls whereas aisles of old books and incomplete china sets take up the left side of the shop.

Most of it’s a facade to hide what’s actually for sale in the store, while the rest is a bit of your quirky friends hobby. In contrast to how you like to tear shit up, Star light has a taste for putting things back together.

First, you see the obnoxiously large witch hat that never fails to catch a laugh in your throat. Next, a pair of golden eyes peek up at you from behind a clunky cash register. Suspicion takes Star Light’s face as her brows furrow, eyes darting between you and the door before she whispers,

“Hi.”

“Hey kid,” Your lips twitch with a smirk as you chuckle. “Miss me?”

“...Maybe? I dunno. Wait a sec, I have to ask myself,” Star Light pops up from behind the counter with a twirl of her robes. Snickering, you toss your messenger bag atop her counter while she retrieves a sock puppet and then proceeds to have a conversation with said sock puppet.

You light up a cigarette.

“Ahem. Star Light? Did you miss Dahlia?” You’re not sure what you like more. The fact that the sock puppet is missing a button eye or Star Light’s quizzical face as she contemplates the question.

“Hmmm,” Star Light twirls a lock of hair. “Wellll...Yes! Yes I did. Thank you, Mr. Blister!”

“Mr. Blister?” Thin veils of smoke leave your nostrils. “What happened to Mr. Spleen?”

Star Light’s shoulders slump as she slips Mr. Blister off of her hand. “Oh...he’s dead. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Fuck, you love her crazy ass.

Turning her attention towards your bag, Star Light tosses Mr. Blister over her shoulder before dumping out all the nuts, bolts, and screws. You cock a brow as the sock puppet inches up the wall and takes rest next to a tapestry. Okay then.

While Star Light comments on the different shapes and sizes of the hardware before her, you finish your cigarette. It’s pretty cute how she organizes them, portioning off the wing, acorn, and castle nuts like a kid separating the different colors of candy from a bag of skittles. From what you know of her projects here of late, she’s most likely searching for something that might fit that old radio she’s been trying to repair. 

Speaking of which, you think you might have what she needs. The screws and such from the airplane are a tad big, after all. Reaching a hand down, you fish around one of the many pockets lining your pants. Bullets, keys, a pocket knife, quarters, a dime bag, beer caps, and a few batteries graze your finger tips before you dig out a fist full of screws.

You roll your fingers open, allowing the petite nuts and bolts to spill out of your hand. “Here.”

“Ooohhh!” Star Light plucks one of the bolts up. “What do you want for this little fella here?”

“Make a deal with me,” You prop an elbow up on her counter with a dead expression. “Give me your soul.”

“...But I already love you?”

Damn it. Corny little shit. Your lips twitch with a smile. Star Light is quite possibly the only person in Hell that can soften you like butter.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine, alright. Got any Devil’s luck brewin’ in the back, then?”

Star light squints. “Why...Why do you need Devil’s luck? And why is your shirt all ripped up?”

“...No reason.”

Here we go.

“Did somebody hurt you?!” Star Light’s chest inflates with a gasp. “Oh! Oh, no! No, no, no! I will find that mother fricker and rip his spine out of his butt!”

She’s precious, but deadly. You laugh. “Don’t get your feathers all up in a ruffle, Star. Besides! I’m fine, really. I took care of him-- I mean, it. Yeah. I took care of it.”

“..Him?”

Damn it. Feels like bugs are rootin’ around under your skin and fuck all you want another cigarette. “You got any Devil’s luck or are you gonna keep me hangin’?”

Star light frowns. “Your voice.”

“Dude! What?” You roll your eyes as you pop another cigarette into your mouth.

“I can tell through the sound of your voice that your heart is sad. “

A sneer tugs at your lips as you face the floor. “I’m _fine_.”

“Um..no you’re not.”

Ugh. “Yes. Yes, I am. Drop it.”

“..Can I give you a hug?”

“No.”

“..I think I'm gonna come and give you a hug.”

A groan rumbles out from the back of your throat. “Touch me and I’ll put my cigarette out on you.”

“No you won’t.” 

She’s right.

You don’t say anything as she wraps her arms around you. You just keep suckin’ on your cigarette, blowing rings of smoke away from her while she cuddles into you.

Silence.

“..So, um. The usual, plus the Devil’s Luck?”

You nod your head. You don’t say anything as she tugs you in tighter.

An old friend from back in your prison days once told you that pain was just weakness leaving the body. More times than not, you wish you could go back to that day and ask her one crucial question.

What happens when you bleed out all the pain?

Because…

Pain keeps you strong. 

Star Light inches impossibly closer as you give in to resting your head atop hers.

...and love makes you weak.

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/)

[Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> [Star Light!](https://www.deviantart.com/download077/art/Star-Light-829588375) And if you haven't seen her yet, [Black Dahlia!](https://www.deviantart.com/download077/art/Black-Dahlia-827597154)
> 
> Star Light is [Kensalyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kensalyn/pseuds/Kensalyn) and I's baby girl. We have joint custody over her. 😂 Hopefully, you all will get to see what that _means_ in the future! 
> 
> A moment of silence for Mr. Spleen. 
> 
> Hmm. Gotta wonder, just how _are_ we gonna see Pen next chapter? 🤔 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	7. A match made in Hell

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

A match made in Hell

* * *

The more things change; The more they stay the same.

It’s been said that when humans go to Hell they lose their humanity. You all just become a bunch of fuckin’ coke snortin’, child raping, sadistic sex addicts that only live for yourselves.

Not wrong.

However, that’s not all of it. A snake may shed its skin, but underneath it all it’s still a damn snake.

Creatures of habit very rarely break routine.

You are no exception to this rule, in life or in death. And right now, you’re going to blow a fuse if you don’t get to have a cigarette today. 

The vending machine before you sputters with it’s usual automated voice system, cycling through the different products it offers as you give it another kick. Ugh! Come on! Another kick. A hollow echo bounces off the neon face plate of the vending machine. Nothing.

Your blood boils. Two days ago you ran out of cigarettes, but you didn’t exactly care because you were high off your ass and riding a cocaine binger. Good shit. Got a lot done. V.C.R. got his cash, you fixed the leak in your sink, finished soundproofing your bedroom because your upstairs neighbors party 24/7, and you sorted your closet of scrap metal.

Nothing a lethal dose of nose candy can’t accomplish, right? 

However, now the fun is gone and you’re withdrawing. You need a cigarette _now_ before your irritation turns into the shakes, which will turn into the shits, which will lead to sweating profusely, and end with a concoction of everything previously mentioned. Not exactly a good way to start the day. 

With a wind up kick, you drive your sneaker into the side of the vending machine. _Thunk!_ You grit your teeth as a throbbing pain strikes your foot. Yeah, ouch. Okay. Sure, you could give this thing a few bucks for a carton of cigarettes instead of standing here kicking it like a degenerate teenager. However, you’ve never had to give this thing a dime so fuck that shit you kick it again.

Groaning with a warbled _Beep!_ , the vending machine pukes up a carton of cigarettes. 

“𝕋𝕙𝔸𝕟𝕂 𝕪𝕆𝕦 𝕗𝕆𝕣 𝕐𝕠𝕌𝕣 ℙ𝕦ℝ𝕔ℍ𝕒𝕊𝕖.” The vending machine shrieks.

Finally! Darting down, you snatch up the carton. Fumbling with popping it open, you retrieve a cigarette. Oh, thank fuck.

With a sense of urgency, you light your cigarette and shove it into your mouth. Inhale. Exhale. The damn near uncontrollable shake in your hands subsides. Damn, that’s good. The relief of the smoke tickles your gums into a numb state. 

A familiar calm glazes your mind as you lean against the vending machine. That’s much better. You suck down three more while savoring the soothing properties of the tobacco. How the smoke fills your lungs, how the clove spices burn your nostrils on the way out and how it all sends your eyes into a water.

Lighting up a fourth, you pause as a shadow leading from overhead consumes the alleyway. Everything goes dark. Okay, that’s only mildly unsettling. You forsake the indulgence of another cigarette, stuffing it away as the distinct line of black slinks past you. 

To get a better view of what’s going on, you abandon the alleway. From the shape of the shadow, you think it might be one of those channel 666 blimps advertising the upcoming extermination. They like to start broadcasting that shit early. Fear mongering tends to earn them a considerable amount of views. 

Ice sinks a chill into your veins while you focus your attention on the sky. Metallic gold and black skip across your eyes. A hum turned rumble bounces loose gravel along the streets. You reach for your gun. 

..Fuck.

Parkway holds its breath in the seconds to come before its ruin and subsequent subjugation. 

Pentious’ airship releases a high pitched scream followed by a sweep of violet energy beams. Windows shatter. Screaming. Buildings detonate with fire atop their peaks. Lasers carve valleys into the roads while the belly of the ship rotates sheets of steel to reveal an onslaught of canons.

You dive back into the alleyway. Machine gun fire sprays through the open sky, spent casings hissing as they _ping!_ like rain against the ground. Gunpowder thickens the air while the exhaust steaming from Pentious’ airship burns your lungs. 

Heart thudding, you throw your back against the building. Rapid flashes of violet light force your eyes shut. Fuck! God damn it, you should have known! You’re such an idiot! With Myrefall under Pentious’ control, his territory now borders Parkway. Naturally, he was bound to bring in the big guns and assume control of Parkway to expand his realm. 

This is bad. Like, _bad._ Stealing a peek from behind cover, you witness the airship carpet bomb its way down the streets. More screaming. Craters in the road smolder with ribbons of smoke. Your stomach sours. If Pentious takes Parkway he’s going to make it unbearable to live here. The unreasonable taxes he’ll unleash will have a domino effect upon everyone in Parkway. Theft will rise. Businesses will be forced into closure. Shops that try to keep their heads above water will increase their prices in an attempt to delay the inevitable until they too, drown.

Pentious will bleed Parkside dry. Bleed _you_ dry. 

Fuck no. You’ve lived here since you were sent to Hell. And you’re _not_ moving now _._ With a grit of your teeth, you take aim at Pentious’ airship. Right at his fuel reserves. Sure, you’ve been through your fair share of Slumlord rulers. Parkway has traded hands many times. 

However, there’s always been the common decency of keeping things the way they are. These are the fuckin’ slums, after all. We’re not talking about a ritzy place like Twilight boulevard. No. We’re talking about little old grimy Parkway.

Flicking your thumb, you pull the hammer of your gun back. _Click_! A hollow pain strikes your heart as you lay a finger into the curve of the trigger. Sigh. You know, you wanted to see him again.

Just not like this.

You unload six shots into Pentious’ airship. Pop out the chamber. Reload. Another six slice through the bottom of his ship. **_Boom!_ **An explosion of metal, smoke, and dark fire detonates off the back of his ship. Heh. Lucky. One of those bullets must’ve got him right in the tank.

Pentious’ airship groans as it grinds to a halt. A single cannonball _whumps!_ through the air. Everything else ceases fire. A silence unknown to Parkway blankets the streets. Your shoulders tense. Here we go. While the ship clatters in rotation of it’s bulk to face your direction, you take the chance to pepper the damn thing with another few rounds. 

A gulp slides down your throat as Pentious’ honeycomb cockpit stares you down. Pressurized steam whines from valves along the ships under carriage. Canons thunk as they shift to point their barrels towards you. A pregnant pause ticks by.

You take a step back.

Pentious’ airship let’s out a mechanical hiss as the belly slides open. You don’t know what to expect. A part of you thinks he’s going to drop out an energy canon or some bullshit that breaks you apart atom by atom.

Instead, a comically large microphone descends from the ship. 

“Would you sstop that?! Can’t you ssee that I’m busy takin--wait-- What did you just say to me you filthy boneless chicken nugget?! Ugh! Sshut up and do as I comman-- Oh? Bah! Who is tha--” Static fizzles from the microphone.

“...Dahlia?! No, that’s no--Do not correct me you goddamned ingrate! I know what I’m---Ugh! Why, it _is_ her! That hussy!” More static. The volume of his voice increases in vibrato. “Ohhhh, so you want to come at me then, little miss Dahlia?! Hah! Fine! Bring it on, ssister!”

Little.

Miss.

Dahlia.

Heat scorches through your veins. A snarl that curls up from your soul rips out of your lips.

_“Hey there, little miss Dahlia,” You were shoved up against the wall, cheek planted firm against the cold concrete of the prison hallway. “How’s it goin?”_

_You didn’t say anything. The only sound you could produce was a coughed up grunt as a foot drove itself into your lower back. Snickering filled your ears. The coarse gravel of the wall scratched your face as you sunk to your knees._

_“Next time you wanna talk shit?” Fingers ghosted your stomach. You cringed. “Yeah. That’s what the fuck I thought.”_

You didn’t fight then. But in Hell?

You’ll always fight for your freedom. 

You bolt forward. Machine gun fire pops behind you. Yeah, that’s about what you expected. He can’t target you if you’re moving. The many guns and canons along his ship have to rotate to face you, and they’re too slow.

Pentious’ airship was meant for clearing out an area, not focusing on a single target. However, one false move and you’re pretty much hamburger meat. 

You have two options. The alleyway behind his ship, or under that giant ass microphone where you can taunt him in his blind spot.

The blind spot it is!

“Ohhh! Bah! Hold ssstill so that I can kill you!”

Yeah, right. “Fuck you, pool noodle!”

“Pardon?! What did you jusst say to me?!”

“You heard me!” Skidding to a halt, you thrust your gun towards the microphone, shaking it as you shout, “Up there lookin’ like a damn Macy’s day parade float!”

A shriek of feedback screeches from the microphone. “...bzzt, but Mr. Bossman, I thought you liked he----Fool! I ssaid shoot her, goddamn it!”

Yikes!

Clouds of dust kick up as crossfire encircles you. Clutching your gun, you hold tight under the center of Pentious’ blind spot.

You just need to buy some time. What? It’s not like you can actually _do_ anything. Needless to say, you pretty much brought a knife to a gunfight. 

However.

You’re not the only one that doesn’t want Pentious to take over Parkway.

The streets rumble. You lose your footing, nearly stumbling down to your knees while the ground continues to shift, shake, and jump. Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes widen as one of the buildings down the way rolls off of it’s foundation.

Tank tracks churn against the road, kicking up chunks of asphalt as they beat against the path. Windows along the apartment complex lift to reveal mounted turrets. Trebuchets line the roof. Needle point lasers pop out from between shifting bricks. Drifting smoke curls around an octagonal particle barrier that shimmers when touched. 

Call it a hunch, but there’s a reason why you always made sure to pay V.C.R. on time. 

From the peak of the building’s antenna, a speaker makes itself known as it squawks, “Yo! What gives, mate?! Think ya can just start a party in my own house without inviting me?”

“Hahaha! Well, allow me to offer my sssincerest apologies! It sseems you were misinformed,” Pentious airship hums with a pink glow. “This issn’t a party. This is an eviction notice.” 

Two columns of violet energy charge off from the left and right side of Pentious’ airship. Fuck! Time to book it! While the lasers splash against V.C.R. 's particle shield, you race towards the alleyway. Static electricity hangs in the air, popping, hissing, and snapping as the continuous streams of light persist with their assault.

Now that you’ve made it into the alleyway, you give yourself a chance to catch your breath. A wince tugs at your lips as you point your attention towards the end of the alleyway. The _dead_ end. Mother fucker. Looks..looks like you’re riding this one out. You’re an ant in a battle of giants at the moment. 

Thick wafts of smoke blast down the alleyway as Pentious shatters V.C.R. 's particle barrier. Coughing, you squeeze your eyes shut as you attempt to wave the hot fumes away. For the time being, you’re just going to tuck yourself back here and wait for this to blow over. 

Flashes of violet and lime green light bathe Hell’s sky as Pentious and V.C.R. trade blows. Machine guns blaze a cherry red along their barrels as they churn out bullets. Clouds of black powder trail behind racing cannonballs. Trebuchets creak as they’re yanked back before heaving clusters of stone. 

Pentious slams his fist against a triangular button upon his console. A dozen nose cone missiles whistle with spirals of smoke as they speed towards V.C.R. 's building. All but three explode in clusters mid flight as they’re brought to a halt by lines of green energy. 

Bricks rocket off of the side of the building in a spray while trebuchets tumble forward as the missiles crash through and detonate. In response, V.C.R. begins to roar through his speaker. 

“Yo! Mate!” 

Pentious’ microphone shrieks with feedback as he groans. “What?!”

“Crimey! Enough of this, you bloody bastard! If we keep on a-goin’ like this, there’s not gonna be nothin’ left!”

“That’ss the point, you ssimpleton!”

“...Wait, whaa? Seriously, mate? You wanna own a pile of rubble, be my guest! But like Hell if I’m gonna let you have it as anything other than that!”

“Excuse yourself?!” Pentious barks. The airship glows with a shade of pink that grows ever vibrant by the second. Sheets of metal, gears, and other hood ornaments along the ship rattle, clink, and clank as the canons vibrate with a surplus of climbing energy. “Let me?! Let _me_?!”

“I don’t think sso.” 

Pentious’ Airship falls silent save for the engine fans humming as they work overtime. The pink radiation painting his ship subsides. Canons, machine guns, and lasers suck their barrels back as curtains of metal drop shut before them. Exhaust belts out a multitude of sighs from the dozens of pipes that smatter the base of the ship.

V.C.R. squeals with laughter as he pelts Pentious’ airship with continuous gunfire. “ Aww, runnin’ out of juice? Haha! Just look at you no--?! _Shit!_ Get down, get _down_!”

Pentious’ Airship folds open with flanking energy canons already whirling with crackles of lightning. Groaning, the ship punches backwards as the cannons scream. Twin beams of an energy teaming with so much power that it bends the air around them to a blur rush towards the building.

Brick hands crumble off the sides of the apartment complex and slam their palms against the coming light. 

Tank tracks whine as they chew the ground while they’re shoved back. Trickles of powder and debris drift from the hands keeping the lasers at bay. Slowing down, Pentious’ lasers begin to falter in power, flickering, drooping as they lose pressure. V.C.R. 's building presses forward. 

Pentious’ airship fishtails in the push back. The rear of his ship carves through the building behind him. Steel screeches as it peels from the impact. Nearly lost for power, the airship gasps with a final breath before the energy canons are sent into maximum overdrive. 

For a moment, Hell’s red sky is violet.

Brick hands fall to dust, leaving nothing but arm stubs as the lasers mulch their way forward. Tank tracks grind as they beat against the road, spewing hunks of tar in every direction as the building tries to stand its ground. Lasers now up to the elbows, the building shudders before lurching forward. Throwing it’s arms into a T, the apartment complex sends Pentious’ energy waves in opposite directions.

Plume after plume of dark smoke chugs from Pentious’ airship as he’s forced into a landing. V.C.R. 's building whines as it tries to drive forward, belts snapping off of their tracks and slapping against the ground.

Ruptured with static, V.C.R.’s speaker coughs, “Wanna settle this how a couple of real blokes would, mate?”

“Hah! It would be my pleassure,” Pentious’ microphone warbles before sparking and fizzling out.

Smoke blurs the road. Electrical discharge skips along the pavement. V.C.R. throws the doors open to his apartment complex. Equalizer suit bouncing with colorful pixels, he marches outside, pumping his double barreled shotgun with a _kerchunk!_

A flash of teal cuts through the smoke and slices V.C.R. 's cheek open. “Yo?! What gives?!” V.C.R. touches his cheek. “Whatever happened to negotiations?!” 

Pentious’ eyes glint through the smoke. “I’m not here to dilly dally in needless affairs!” Yellow teeth hang in a smile framed by the fumes leaking from his airship. “I’m here to take what’s mine.”

The gunshot blast fired from V.C.R.’s shotgun echoes through Parkway as he sends a warning shot into the sky. “Oh come _on_ , mate! Do we really have to settle things like this?”

“Oh come _on_ , mate,” Pentious whines. Delivering another punch from his energy pistol that clips V.C.R. on the shoulder, he scoffs, “Bah! As if! What else do you expect from a snake?! Hiss hiss, loser!”

V.C.R. sneers, the pixels dancing on his suit bolting up to his chest before settling back to his legs. Dusting off his shoulder, V.C.R. shrugs. “Alright, then. Cheers.”

Two talons extend an invitation through the smoke. Curling one back towards himself, Pentious cackles, “Come get ssome!”

Cocking his shotgun, V.C.R. leaps into the smoke after Pentious. His feet never touch the ground. A wet choke. The shotgun slips through his fingers. _Clang!_ Winks of polished silver glitter against the haze in the air as a fist closes around V.C.R’s throat. 

Pentious cackles louder and louder, nearly hacking up a lung as one of his freshly seized guards from Alderman’s palace slam V.C.R. into the pavement. Clearing his throat from the laughter, Pentious points his energy pistol at V.C.R. and blows open his knee cap. V.C.R.’s eyes bulge as he screams. 

“Sstorm the complex and seize everything of use. Leave no ssurvivors,” With a wave of his gun, Pentious dismisses his guard. The guard grunts in acknowledgement, dropping V.C.R. as he signals for the rest of Pentious' minions to aid him in retrieval of all things of interest within the building.

Pentious rolls his eyes as V.C.R. whimpers while applying pressure to his blown out knee cap. “Sstop your ssniveling and die with some dignity, would you?”

“W-w-wait, you’re gonna kill me?! Mate, wait! Plea--”

“Ugh!” Pentious throws his arms open as he belts out a groan. “Why iss it alwayss the same with you damn kids these days?! Oh, please don’t kill me Ssir Pentious! Or wait! I have money! Bah! You think I care?! Do you know what I want?”

Pentious jabs the barrel of his gun into V.C.R. 's forehead. “I want you out of my way! There’ss only room for one ruler of Hell, after all,” Pentious brows furrow as he studies V.C.R. for a moment. “...What kind of name is V.C.R, anyways? The hell does that mean?”

V.C.R. winces. “Uh, uhh, Victimize, kill, repeat.”

Pentious face blanks before screwing up. “Kill doesn’t begin with a C you goddamn moron!”

“...Wait, it doesn’t?” 

“Ugh! No! No it doe---.....” Pentious body stills, a sharp inhale flooding through his nostrils as you press the cold barrel of your gun to his head.

“Hey, Pentious.” You deadpan. 

It was easier than you thought. Hide in the alleyway. Use the smoke to conceal yourself. Wait for him to monologue.

Pentious turns his attention to you with a glare. He says nothing.

“Sheila! Yo! Listen, listen! Take this overgrown yellow bellied stooge out and I swear to you tha--” V.C.R. 's head pops off of his shoulders, blood evaporating before it has a chance to spray as a pin point laser from Pentious’ airship cuts him short. His suit gives a final wave of it’s equalizer before fading to black.

Stepping forward, you press your chest to Pentious’ as a red dot forms on your shirt. You glance up towards his ship. “How accurate are those guns? Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

Pentious lips curl back, exposing the taut of his gums as he hisses, “Sstupid girl! Do not think for a ssecond that I won’t kill you where you stand!”

“That’s the thing, Pentious. You can’t kill me,” Dragging your gun along his jawline, you place the barrel under his chin and dig. “I’m already dead.”

“Oh?! Why, you! Ugh, do not get cheeky with me!” Pentious tongue darts between his lips. “You have no hopes of winning thiss. Walk away with your life, Dahlia. Trusst that I won’t give you another opportunity.”

“Yeahh. No.” Your eyes meet V.C.R. 's smoking neck stump. “I’m not ending up like that.”

Pentious smirks. “Clever, are we? Well. Fine! What do you think happens next, hm?”

Truth be told? You’re flying by the seat of your pants. Adrenaline has your heart beating so damn loud that you can barely hear your thoughts. Gritting your teeth, you click the hammer of your gun back. “Personally? I only see one way out of this.”

“Go on, then! Sspit out thiss glorious plan of yours!”

Here goes nothing. “You and me. Think about it. We’d make one Hell of a team.”

“Wait, you?! You, my equal?” Pentious rears back with a scoff, hood popping open as he exclaims, “Please! Dream on, missy! You’re out of your depthss!”

Driving your gun further into the meat of his chin, you spit, “Then we both fuckin’ die.”

Pentious hisses, fangs glistening as he bares them your way. This would be so much easier if he didn’t have so much god damned pride. Right now, you’re finding yourself wishing that you had just gone with him that day at Alderman’s instead of heading home. 

Things could’ve been different.

A sigh slips through your lips. Pentious blinks, expression clearing to neutral as you both hang in a stalemate. Smoke pours over his shoulder as the debris behind him crumble to ruin. His guards and such will be done excavating V.C.R. 's apartment complex soon. Shit’s gonna get hairy when that comes to pass. 

Lips hinting at a frown, you gaze into his eyes. You don’t want to kill him. Never did. However...you might have too.

You don’t know what to do.

Pentious’ nostrils flare as he breathes. Another blink. 

You let up on the pressure of your gun drilling into his chin. In response, his tongue pokes between his lips as he tests the air. 

You’re sorry it had to come to this. 

Allowing a frown to pull your face down, you fit your finger against the trigger. He’s going to die. You’re going to die.

This really is Hell. 

Pentious’ eyes soften considerably, hood cinching in tight against his neck while you glance between his eyes and nowhere in particular. All you have to do is pull the trigger. It’ll be fast. Heh. Maybe you’re doing him and yourself a favor. 

..This is it.

Steadying your grip, you release a sigh as you lean into him. You want one last thing before you go. Wetting your lips, you pull his chin towards you with the aid of your gun and meld your mouth to his.

Your heart flutters before dropping into your stomach. Funny, you expected some resistance. Instead, his lips fuse to yours with a timid sigh that fuckin’ hurts because you _really_ like this crazy bastard.

Another time; Another life.

Even through the smoke, gaseous fumes, and gunpowder you can pick up on the musk of his pheromones. God...God damn it. Pulling away from the embrace, you squeeze your eyes shut, throwing your face away from him as you make ready to pull the trigger. 

Pentious lays a claw on your waist as he groans. “...After careful conssideration, I ssupose that a partnership wouldn’t be _ssuch_ a bad thing.”

Wait, what?!

You almost drop your gun. Eyes darting open, you focus your attention back on him as you rasp, “How..How do I know if you’re being serious?”

“You don’t.” Pentious places a palm against your gun and gives it a nudge. “Ssurely you must understand that trusst is a necessity between us, moving forward.”

You swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth. He’s right. However, you already saw him pull a similar stunt like this with Alderman. 

_Imbecile! I lied!_

With a shake of your head, and against your better judgement, you lower your gun.

Fuck it. You were gonna die anyways.

Reflexively, a wince takes over your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. After a few seconds, you poke an eye open, focusing on your shirt, shoulders relaxing as the red dot from earlier that you were marked with fades.

Your eyes meet his. You don’t say anything.

Pentious dusts off his suit before reaching a claw towards you. “Come on, then. Damn hussy. At the very least, you can start in aiding me with the repair of the fuel tank you so zealously persecuted earlier! After that, we can discusss how this dynamic between us is to work.”

Heart still thudding, you stuff your gun back into its holster before placing your hand in his. This is a fuckin’ roller coaster, one where you don’t know what to expect next, but...an honest laugh finds its way into your voice as you hum, “Alright, Mr. Bossman.”

Pentious heaves a groan as his claw closes in around your hand. “First things firsst. Do _not_ call me that.”

“Whatever you say…Mr. Bossman.”

“Ugh! I jusst knew this was going to be a terrible idea..”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

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* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> _Kill doesn't start with a C, you goddamn moron!_ 😂 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! It was a lot of fun to write, so in turn I hope it was a lot of fun to read. Also, ayyyy to that hunnicast reference! I couldn't resist! 😂 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated! They're like fuel for your dear fan fiction authors. 👀💖 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	8. Black Gold

∞ 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖆𝖗 ∞

ℍ𝕒𝕫𝕓𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕝 

Black Gold

* * *

Roaring engines. Egg boi minions scurrying about with tool boxes and repair kits. Splatters of oil caked to the ground. There’s chunks of debris fuckin’ _everywhere_. Grooved cylinders that stretch from the floor to the ceiling buzz with electrical discharge. Dry heat distorts the air. Everything silver glints a hellish orange as an industrial forge breathes life through the airship. 

Pentious’ steam chamber wheezes with dark smoke. 

Sweat slicks your arms and coats the back of your neck. Oil stains your fingers a dry black up to their second knuckle. Tossing off your jacket, you prop a forearm up against the plate of steel before you and resume your work. A labored breath. Phew. It helps if you hold this part in place while you drill in the screws. 

More sweat. It stings like a wasp on the rag as the little beads huddle in your lashes and burn your eyes. However, you can’t exactly wipe the shit away without looking like a damned raccoon. 

Fuck it.

Black circles dress your eyes as you rub at them. This ain’t a beauty contest, after all. 

After drilling in the final screw, you step back and admire your work. It’s just a patch job, but at least you can’t see outside anymore. All Pentious said was to make it functional and that his minions would finish the rest once the ship was able to take off with minimal interference.

Clipping the drill to your tool belt, you snatch up your jacket before heading towards the forge. Wave after wave of heat beat against your face as you peer inside. It’s not low, but a few shovels full of coal wouldn’t hurt it. With his fuel reserves spilling out across Parkway thanks to you, which he made sure to emphasize, Pentious is now relying on coal to keep everything going. Not ideal, but smart as fuck that he had a back up for his back up.

Grabbing a shovel, you dig the spade into the pile of coal before you with a push of your foot. Once loaded up, you throw the clumps into the forge. Rinse. Repeat. When the ship is ready for flight, he plans on docking at the ocean of souls and refueling. He needs oil, bad. Everything was spent on bringing down V.C.R. 's mechanized building. 

With a grunt, you toss the shovel next to the dwindled pile of coal. _Clang!_ You wipe away more sweat from your brow. Glancing towards the forge, you figure it best to not dump in everything. As a rule, it’s generally best to avoid fully using all of something unless absolutely necessary. 

You light up a much earned cigarette as you survey your surroundings. Pentious’ minions are irritating little pieces of shit, but damn it all if they don’t know how to bust their asses and work. While a cluster of egg boi’s focus on repairing damages, another group keeps their attention on testing the repairs. Stragglers with clipboards take stock of inventory while guards secure the areas that the minions can’t readily access. A smirk tugs at your lips as you blow a circle of smoke. Heh. They all work together like a well oiled machine.

From the looks of it, it appears as if everything is up to speed. Not much else you can do unless you want to start sweeping up the debris littering the floor. Yeahhh, fuck that. Grunt work is for grunts, and you do repairs.

Flicking the butt of your cigarette into the forge, you abandon your post. Bye. Time to find Pentious and see if the ship can limp it’s way to the ocean of souls. Heh. A smile creeps up on your face as you allow a bit of fondness into your heart. 

You’re not sure when it settled into you that he wasn’t going to pull out his energy pistol and take you out. Maybe it’s when he explained the ship repairs, or perhaps it happened when you dropped that screw and one of his minions was there to hand it back to you. Again, you’re not sure, and it’s all starting to feel kinda surreal while you walk down this hallway with the roar of the forge behind you.

A part of you still--?! 

“The fuck?!” You shriek as a tendril of black drops from the ceiling. Swaying like a pendulum, the dark coil turns to face you as it reveals a blinking violet eye.

Pentious voice bounces above you. There’s the hint of a snicker pervading his tone that really makes you want to jab a finger into his eye. “Hah! Best be on your toess, missy. Ahem, now then. Request for a guard to feed the forge. Next, I require a ssoldering iron. Have one of the minions fetch one for me, these goddamn wires require maintenance. While not a problem as of this moment, I’m sscertain that in the future they will arise with an issue.”

Thanks for the minor heart attack, Pentious. Anyways.

You smirk. Good to know that great minds think alike. “Heh. Funny enough? I already took care of the forge.”

Pentious pauses with a lazy blink. “Very well, then. Off with you now! Go on, shoo!”

“You know, you don’t need a soldering iron with me around,” Curling your fingers around the loop of his tail, you give him a tug. “Well?”

“...Fine! No funny business, though! And watch the eyess.”

Without further delay, Pentious’ tail slips around your waist and hoists you up to the ceiling. Being mindful of his coils, you release your tool belt and hook it on the fixture upon the wall before crawling into the ventilation shaft. 

It’s..a bit of a tight fit. Pentious grumbles as your sneaker’s slide against the slick paneling while you inch your way beneath him. Reaching a claw down, he takes hold of your bicep and pulls you the rest of the way up.

Squashed between his chest and the wall, you shimmy to the side so that you can get a better look of what he’s shining his flashlight at. Under aid of the light, you notice something else. Something that has you lifting a brow.

He’s...he’s _filthy_. Like you, his finger nails are scratched with layers of oil. All of his yellows and pinks have been dulled by dust. Fortunately for him, he had the foresight to forsake his suit and slip into something a bit more labor intensive friendly. 

A simple crew neck black shirt. However, he still has his bow tie. Cute.

Huh.

..He’s done this before. 

You let out a dry laugh. “Never would have guessed that you’re the kind to get down and dirty.”

“Hm?” Your eyes squint as Pentious points his flashlight at you. “Normally, you would be correct in that assumption. However, there are thingss that only I can accomplish within this sship as it is my design. Furthermore, I will be damned before I let my idiosyncrasies get the best of me when there’s work to be done!”

Redirecting his flashlight towards the exposed wires above, Pentious requests, “Thesse here, if you would. As you can see they’re not quite ssplit, only frayed. So be careful! Do not cause further damagess.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You roll your eyes. You know what you’re doing. Brushing a finger against the wires in question, a spark nips at your fingertip as you weld them together. Reflexively, you yank your hand back with a wince and sharp hiss.

“Ow!”

“What did I just ssay?! I told you to be careful!” Snatching up your wrist, Pentious inspects your hand as he demands, “Are you alright?” 

You were about to snap at him something fierce before he revealed his concern. Your cheeks darken. Glancing away, you mumble, “I’m uh, fine. It was just a little shock. Surprised me is all.”

“Hmm. Well.” He studies your hand a bit further. Upon release, he clicks his flashlight off as he chuckles, “Nothing you’re not accustomed to, to ssay the least.”

Your nose scrunches up as a confusion swirls in your eyes. What the fuck does he mean by that?

..Wait. Wait a minute. Did he just…?

Mother fucker. Laughter rocks your chest and forces your cheeks to flame. Seemingly pleased with himself, Pentious smirks before turning his attention to over his shoulder. “Ssshould you wish to care to partake of supper, see to it that my minions draw you a bath. You’re positively filthy!”

“And you’re the spitting image of clean, right?” You scoff.

Pentious gestures towards the grime upon his chest. “Bah! This?! This is to be expected when one toils away in ssuch a manner that I have! _You_ would know that if-...,” A smug expression colors your face as Pentious glances away. “Fine! You may have preliminary use of my facilitiesss.”

He can go first; You really don’t care. 

“Eh. I don’t mind waiting,” You shrug a shoulder. “Doesn’t bother me much. You go on ahead.”

“Excuse me? I don’t think so, hussy! Understand that although while under my operation you are still my guesst. A proper host ssuch as I simply won’t allow for anything lesss.”

The whisper of a smile paints your lips. Demons, if anything, are pretty damn selfish. Nothing down here to hold em’ accountable for their actions, so their actions are typically for themselves. Hmph. It’s probably just his time period.

...Or maybe it’s just him.

“Alright, have it your way then,” You soften your eyes. With the wet of your lips, you hit him with this, “Pretty sure your bathtub is capable of accommodating more than one user, though.”

A snarl peels his lips back. Pentious slams a fist against the ventilation wall. _Bang!_ “How kind of you to notice! Tell me, when offered a courtesy is it your prerogative to ridicule?! Hmph! I’ll have you know that my en suite was specifically designed--?!”

God damn it, Pentious.

“...Mm,” The hiss rattling in his throat subsides to a whimpered moan as you lace your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. Slipping onto his side, he snakes his arms around your back, bringing you in closer while his coils take over in curling around your legs. 

Yeah. That’s better.

…You lose place of yourself. Eyelids fluttering, the glaze of his musk enters your mind and leaves you kinda stupid, high, and thinking that all that exists are your lips and his.

It reminds you of cigarette smoke. 

Your fingers tug into a tent. This, for reasons you’re not understanding, is entirely too sentimenta--

Pentious retreats from the kiss with a smile teasing at his lips. “...You tasste like motor oil.”

* * *

Streams of diluted oil race down your face, arms, and the backs of your thighs. Black swirls down the drain. Beads of fluorescent pink dot the soap suds rolling in rivers along Pentious’ neck.

He’s pretty like this. Calm. Eyelids drooping and a pleased hiss rumbles from his throat as you comb your fingers down the sleek texture of his hood. He leans forward. Your heart beats that much faster as his tongue tickles your lips in tasting the air before he captures you in a kiss.

It's all a stark contrast to a few minutes ago when you hopped into the shower with him.

_"Jussst what do you think you're doing?!"_

_You let your towel slip off of your shoulders. Then you took one step into the shower with him and touched his arm._

_A soft smile swept over your face. Pentious allowed for his eyes to roam over your curves._   
  
_"..Clossse the door."_

You slant your mouth over his and deepen the kiss. Pentious groans. Shivers of delight travel through and to your fingertips, toes, and your hair is standing on edge every time he grazes your clit with the tip of his cock. You’ve got him between your thighs, gliding along your slit and parting your lips with every thrust he gives you. 

Everything is so slippery. The water from the shower. The precum dribbling from him. The slick, clear fluid leaking from you and coating your thighs. His pheromones, fuck, _his pheromones_. They’re on every breath you take and filling you up with the tang of their antique musk.

Gliding your hands down to his shoulders, you bite your nails into him and whine into his mouth. Pentious groans once again in response, lips trembling over yours as he shakes his head. Yeah, you know.

No penetration. Neither of you can afford to be locked together at the moment. 

But it would be so easy for him to slip inside of you. And you’d kill for it right about now. You’d fuckin’ kill for him to just pop right into you and fuck you for all you’re worth. _It would be so easy_. The sudden rush would send your head to knock back into the shower wall as he took you. Pentious’ claws would bring in fist fulls of your hair as he yanked you down onto his cock with every thrust he sent up into you.

The way his hands would fly to your wrists as he grew closer, and the way his lips would curl with that final thrust punching into you as he bottomed out, face stolen with focus as he twitched and--

Your blood rushes. Fuck it. You’re not above begging. Breaking the kiss, you plant your hands upon his shoulders and look into his eyes.

“Pentious,” You pant. “ _Please._ ”

“Arghhh,” Pentious groans. He bares his fangs, but the look in his eyes is one born from frustration rather than anger as he growls, “Don’t tempt me.”

You grit your teeth as you allow for your head to drop back. With your throat exposed, Pentious takes the opportunity to latch onto it and prick you with his fangs. His breathing accelerates with his thrusting. Meanwhile, your breathing hitches as the constant friction against your clit has you teetering on the edge. But it’s not enough. The space within you fuckin’ _hurts_ and is aching to be filled.

You don’t care anymore. Fuck it.

Arching your back against the shower wall, you lock your arms around Pentious’ neck for support and throw a leg around his waist. Pentious claws ball up fist fulls of your hair as he punches into you with his next thrust and you belt out a yelp as his knot slams in too.

“Fuck!” You cry out. “ _Fuck!_ ”

You just signed yourself up for a commitment you can’t hope to fulfill. Tears stream down your eyes as Pentious’ fangs puncture into your throat and sink in. Pain spreads from your neck like wildfire and it burns like it as well. Then your blood grows thick and a haze enters your mind as his fangs quiver. They sink in deeper. _Deeper._

Your vision tunnels. Little flecks of white dot the black expanse that’s taking over. Pentious rumbles with a growl that vibrates against your throat. The growl pitches, and his body stills, claws twitching around the slick strands of your hair as he pumps hot shot after hot shot of his release into you.

Silence.

Your tongue swells.

The steady stream of water from the shower head beats against you until everything becomes fuzzy.

...What’s

going...

...on?

The last thing you see are Pentious eyes, blue and yellow and swirling.

“Ssstupid girl.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  


_The crowd of people that stood behind the plexiglass were obscured into nothing more than silhouettes as they awaited your execution. To be fair, there couldn’t have been more than seven or eight of the fuckers, but it was still a lot to handle considering the fact that you were being strapped in to die._

_The chair was cold like a doctor’s office. The room was white with nothing more than a clock on the wall and a table with a clipboard of signatures._

_Keep your feet firmly planted, they said._

_A needle entered your arm. Nothing new._

_Straps on the ankles. Wrists. The steel buckles were somehow warmer than the chair._

_They read you your sentence. You tuned out after a few minutes._

_White patches were placed all over you. A buzz curled in the air and the lights flickered._

_You looked at the door. Your heart skipped a beat. This was it. No one was going to come in and save you. There were no more appeals that could be filed. Nothing else could be done._

_You were going to die._

_Your body shook and your jaw locked as the volts rocked your body. The wound spread across your stomach tore like a weak zipper. A warmth flooded between your thighs. Screaming. A splatter of blood shot forward and hit the ground._

_You couldn’t look down. You couldn’t look down but you knew what happened._

_And then you died._

And then you woke up in Hell.

  
  


* * *

Pentious' coils spill over his chaise lounge as he leafs through his newspaper. A few moments later, he takes a quiet sip from his tea.

The door to his bedroom creaks open. Pentious glares over the top of his newspaper as an Egg boi minion with a trolley rolls up to him. Atop the trolley rests a domed silver platter, a fresh kettle of tea, two cups, and a petite bowl of sugar.

“For you and our guest, Mr. Bossman!” 

Pentious blinks a few times. Then he lurches forward and towards his Egg boi minion, hood darting open as he hisses. The Egg boi yelps and runs out of the room.

The door slams shut.

Pentious chuckles to himself as he relaxes back into his seat and adjusts his bow tie.

A strangled gasp is sucked into your lungs as your eyes fly open. You shoot up, gripping at the bed sheets, twisting them around you for some sort of protection. Heart pounding, you scan the room until your eyes find Pentious’.

“Upstairss?” Pentious asks.

“Jesus fucking christ,” You mutter to yourself. After taking a moment to collect yourself, you answer him. “Yeah. Yeah, upstairs. It comes and goes as the years pass but it’s always the same one.”

You place a hand over your stomach just to make sure. Then you heave a sigh in relief. It was just a dream. _It’s always just a dream._

“Mmm. I can’t remember the lassst time I had one of those,” Pentious muses. “Well then. In any case, it’ss time to rise and shine, Missy! Come now. Fetch yourself ssomething to eat. There iss much to discuss between us.”

You clasp a hand across your forehead. Cold beads of sweat slick your palm.

“Yeah, okay.” 

A pause. 

“...What happened? It feels like I got hit by a truck.”

“Bah! Put sssimply? You bit off more than you could chew.”

You groan as you rub your hands against your face. Traveling them lower, you glide them down your cheeks, jaw, and neck until you graze a pair of cotton bandages fastened over your throat.

Realization colors your face. _The shower!_

You shake your head and then shoot him a glare. “What did you do to me?”

“What did I do to you?! Ugh! The audacity of you youngsters, I swear,” Pentious coils slip off of his chaise lounge and pool on the floor as you abandon the bed and approach him. You take your seat beside him as he resumes. 

“Following our little incident, I took the opportunity to showcase the trusst I assured you. Rather than allow my venom to work as intended, I dressed your wounds and sssaw to your comfort."

Pentious hands you a cup of tea. His hot pink claw tips pluck a cube of sugar from the trolley. You nod your head before he plunks it into your cup. 

“You have earned my ressspect for that little stunt you pulled earlier.”

You huff a laugh. “And which stunt would that be? You need to be more specific.”

“Quite frankly?” Pentious’ lips curl back with a smirk before he takes a sip off of his tea. “Under the risk of sounding crude, I would sssay both.”

Another laugh. You shrug a shoulder. “That’s fair.”

The cup of tea within your hands billows with curls of steam. It smells bitter, like dry autumn leaves. You take a sip and your nose scrunches so you grab another few cubes of sugar to help drown out the flavor.

“I have held up my end of thisss bargain,” Pentious clicks a claw tip against your cup of tea. “I sssincerely hope you do the same. Nothing irritatess me more than an unworthy investment.”

You take another sip off of your tea. Fuck this, it still tastes like shit. You set the cup down, fish out a cigarette from one of your pockets, and light it up. 

“I’m good for it,” You take a long drag off of your cigarette. Exhaling through your nose, you breathe, “After all, wasn’t I the one that came up with this song and dance?”

“Only under the charm of duress,” Pentious laughs. Leaning forward, he rests his tea cup next to yours and clicks a talon against the panel embedded into his coffee table. A red holographic display of pentagram city pops up above the table in response.

Blue exclamation points hover and blink over districts of interest.

“Now,” Pentious retrieves a laser pointer. “Ssee here--”

“Wait a minute,” You lurch forward. Heat spikes your blood as you take notice of an exclamation point flashing over the abusement park. 

“ _Totalis_ ,” You growl. “Totalis is on your list?”

Pentious redirects his attention to the abusement park. “Yesss. Hah! A friend of yourss, hmmm?”

“...You could say that.”

You’re starting to shake. 

Pentious lifts a brow. “Care to fill me in on the detailss?”

“It’s personal.”

“I didn’t assk if it was personal. I assked for the details.”

You glare at him from the corner of your eyes.

Pentious’ tongue flicks out as he tastes the air. “Totalisss is low on my list of prioritiess at the moment.”

Silence.

“...Look. He hurt someone I care about. Hurt them real bad,” You finish your cigarette and dig out another one. “And I want to do the same to him.”

“Well, well, well,” Pentious leans back into his seat. Using the tip of his tail, he punches in a few codes into the panel upon his table and the diagram of pentagram city zooms in on the Ferris wheel of the abusement park.

“Revenge,” Pentious says the word as if he’s studying it. “Hah! Well, Missy. We have more in common than I had originally anticipated. Nevertheless, you are entirely too large for your britchess! A regular occurrence with you, it sseems.”

The map shifts. The hills and valleys of pentagram city expand back to full view before zooming in on another territory that consists of dry lakes and buildings crawling with pipes. 

You blow a ring of smoke against the flashing exclamation point. “Humidor, huh. Alright. What’s your beef with him?”

Pentious smiles. “He’sss in my way.”

“But he’s a pacifist from what I’ve heard?” You lean forward, studying the map as you take another hit off of your cigarette. “Thought you would’ve taken him out by now.”

“Sssmoke demons,” Pentious sneers. “Ssslippery bastards. I’ve had him within my sssights for quite some time, yet I’ve had no meanss of assuring his location so that I could ssnuff him out.”

Pentious sips at his tea. A smile carves his face open as he blinks between you and the map. “Until now.”

You eye him with an air of caution. “...If I help you with Humidor.”

“So sssuspicious,” Pentious rolls his eyes. “Ugh! Yes! Mussst I spell this out for you?! And another thing! Should it not be _I_ that is suspicious of you? Hm? Hmm?! I have held up my end of the bargain and quite fairly, might I add! Bah! In fact, I have been more than generouss!”

“Don’t forget who suggested this alliance of sorts,” You remind him. Pentious lips peel back into a smile that exposes the size of his fangs as you continue. “Look. I’m just dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s here. Just making sure. Don’t blame me for being thorough. You seem like the type to appreciate that shit, anyways.”

Pentious’ expression calms. He says nothing, choosing to turn his attention towards the trolley. Curling his fingers around the handle of the topper that domes the silver platter, he lifts it and reveals an assortment of pastries.

Flaky golden croissants. Buttery biscuits with a jar of raspberry jam off and to the side. Little sponge cakes in fluted ramekins dusted with powdered sugar.

Pentious hands you one of the cakes on a chilled white plate. He then gives you a fork, and watches you for a moment as you poke at the dessert.

Silence.

You still haven’t taken a bite from your cake. Can’t think straight. Thoughts are swarming you and leaving you light headed in their wake. _Totalis and Star Light. Humidor. Pentious. What are you getting yourself into? Why do you care?_

Fuck. 

This is making your teeth itch.

You need another cigarette. 

Pentious tugs at one of his sleeves in adjustment. “Ahem. Well, it seems that a trip to Drowning Terrace is in order.”

“Excuse you?” 

Pentious slithers over the arm of his chaise lounge and heads out of his room. Before he leaves, he glances over his shoulder and laughs at you. “No partner of mine is going to be sseen dressed like _that_!”

* * *

🎇💙 Thank you for your Kudos, Bookmarks, and Comments! 💙🎇 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Bet ya'll thought this story was dead. Surprise! It's not. :D I'm just slow to update as I manage my hoard of projects and my crippling sense of imposter syndrome. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! It went a little different than I had expected but nevertheless I'm happy with the end result. And now! Off we go to Drowning Terrace for shopping with Sir Pentious! Shenanigans and fluff will ensue. 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


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